Never Forget: A Madness Combat OC Tribute Fanfiction
by Spirit9871
Summary: Everyone in the future knew who Hank J. Wimbleton and his legendary partners, Sanford and Deimos were. They had saved Nevada and the rest of the world from The Auditor's power-hungry hands. However, there are others; other heroes who have not received the proper recognition for risking their lives for humanity as well. This is the story of all of them; a story we must never forget.
1. Never Forget

Chapter 1: _**Never Forget**_

* * *

**"Just for how long are you planning on fucking around, Omega!?"**

The words echoed through the desolate air of a battle-torn field. Xero would only have a split second's notice until realizing that Omega had seemingly succumbed to XV's virus. As their swords made a clang that vibrated throughout the cold night, Xero gritted his teeth; locking his fiery eyes with his partner.

**"So, after killing hundreds of those assholes and now that freedom is at hand, you're going to let yourself to be taken over by that fucker!?" **Xero shouted on, continually blocking Omega's moves.

**"You can't even give a proper fight!" **He continued to yell.

Eventually reaching his limit, Xero tightly gripped his sword.

**"So...fucking pull it together!"**

A large smack could be heard after this. Omega fell back; regaining his senses only momentarily. With the bitter taste of blood and grit in his mouth, Omega banged his head onto the ground for a few seconds. Xero could only watch as the only member left in his group struggled to keep his sanity intact.

Panting, Omega finally replied; "Thanks for that...now finish me off..."

Feeling dread for what seemed like the first time in his life, this statement only made Xero angrier, yet a bit anxious at the same time.

"The hell are you talking about? Walk it off, pussy." He spat at Omega.

More pants. Finding what little energy he had left in the reserves of his body, Omega continued. "This thing has already taken over most of my body and mind...I am struggling just not to kill you right now..."

Before Xero could reply, he could've sworn he almost heard Omega...chuckling?

"So, do it already... After all, you were the one who was going to cut my head off my neck, right?" Omega joked. But either one of them knew now wasn't the time for that.

Feeling his throat grow dry, Xero clenched his teeth even tighter.

"But-"

**"No buts! If you don't kill me now, we'll both be dead..."** Omega muttered with dead-seriousness evident in his tone.

"...This wasn't supposed to end this way." Xero tried rejecting the truth with. He felt like he would cry, only, that wasn't possible.

**Because cold-blooded killers don't cry.**

"Heh.. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for everything..." Omega weakly apologized with.

Unsatisfied with this answer, Xero's frown only sagged lower. "Tch! Fuck you."

Omega grinned at his partner's strength. He was still the stubborn young man he remembered ever since they've met each other.

Feeling an unsuspecting sudden pang of pain course through his body, Omega fell forwards.

"Ugh..! ...I won't be able to hold it any longer...! Do it!" He ordered.

Xero narrowed his eyes.

So this is how it ends, huh?

"See you in hell..."

Omega nodded, ironically satisfied with this fate that awaited him.

_**"Heh...We'll all be waiting for you..."**_

With a quick swipe, Xero watched as Omega's head slowly fell off from his neck to the ground; decaying almost instantly. As he stared at this, he never thought that this was how it would end:

**With him as the lone survivor of his squad; killing off what was the closest thing he could call a friend with his own sword.**

* * *

"After that night, I disregarded my code name Xero. After giving my teammates a proper burial, I destroyed any proof we ever existed and escaped." Xero muttered; recollecting the day that had scarred him until now.

"Master? Is everything all right?"

Xero turned to the second voice that had broke him away from his trance. A young girl, somewhere between 16 to 18.

**Enid; that was her name.**

He tried to muster up what he could at least call a "smile".

"Hm? ...Oh yeah, I just zoned off for a second..." Xero replied, following this response with a cough.

"So that's how it all ended?" She asked with curiousity.

"How it all ended? Heh...Young girl, that's how it all began." Xero answered; almost excited by his own words.

Suddenly, an explosion rattled the walls around them. Xero stood up and began heading for the exit of the room the two situated themselves in.

"Yet, it seems our talk time is over, Enid." Xero said in a surprisingly calm tone of voice.

"They finally found us..." She added on in disappointment.

**"Drop your weapons and surrender! This is your first and final warning!" **A soldier from the distance can be heard yelling into a megaphone.

"Someone has been pulling the strings from behind the entire time, even the Overseer ended up being just a _puppet_. It all has been playing right into his hand. Askad's death, Kary's malfunction...Even Omega's infection, yet,** I did not play by his cards, and he has been hunting me for decades now**..." Xero informed Enid; causing a sense of surprise and anxiousness inside of her. Who exactly would have been brilliant enough to see that far from everyone, even her master?

**"Open fire!"**

"I've been fighting them for my entire life, but I can no longer do it, my body is decaying even now as we speak. XV's virus will finally bring me down." Xero stated, facing the reality of the situation.

"You lasted longer than anyone else, master, you must not mourn." Enid said, hoping her words would at least soothe Xero at the face of death.

"I don't have time to mourn or be mourned on, this will be my last fight before my demise, I will die here, in the heat of a glorious battle." Xero replied pridefully with that same spark of excitement clear in his eyes.

"We both will, master."

"No...Not you, Kaylenna. You will live on and destroy this blasphemy he created and called the new order, I have entrusted you with both Omega's arts of death and my own for that sole purpose." Xero ordered with neutrality still in his voice.

"I understand, master." Enid quickly obeyed, without any rejection revealed in her words.

Xero coughed; smirking.

_**"I've waited a long time for this moment..." **_

"Will you be seeing your friends again soon, master?" Enid questioned with curiousity evident once more.

"Friends...Heh, yeah...They must be bored shitless of waiting for me already, but they no longer will have to, as I'll be meeting them tonight..." Xero said in a hoarse voice with his smirk now becoming a grin. Yes...his friends.

**It has been quite a while...hasn't it? **

_ "But in the meantime, let's give those assholes..__**one hell of a night!"**_ Xero shouted; no longer able to contain his bloodlust.

Nodding, the two of them summoned their armors. As Xero dashed off to the distance to what will certainly be his end, Enid went the other direction; following her master's orders as he wished.

Eventually finding a spot where she could at least recollect herself and find another means of escape from the soldiers, Enid stopped running for what seemed like miles. Pulling out the last photo her master had given her before charging into battle, Enid stared at the four figures seemingly enjoying themselves; not realizing that years in the future they would tear each other to shreds. On the farthest left was her master, Xero, seemingly conversing with the leader of the team, Omega, who was on his right. Next to him was a smiling Kary; the young girl who had betrayed the team for her own sake, and Askad...her father.

_**This was what used to be the Bolverk Squad. And after tonight, none of them would be left.**_

Hearing footsteps come closer, Enid silently ran off. Of course, she could easily handle anyone or anything in her way thanks to her suit and training, but she had no intention to spill any blood tonight.

**That...would be for later.**

As she snuck off, Enid closed her eyes, clenching the old photo in her hands.

_"Master..."_

* * *

_My name is Enid. Whatever was left of my past was now dead. Including Master; the one person who had actually cared about me in a world that cruelly denied anyone peace and serenity. Thanks to him, I am the last link to the Bolverk Squad. And the last thread of hope humanity has to finally snap back to its senses._

_ My life revolved around violence. Back then, when people weren't constantly dropping faster than flies, I've heard stories about how humans used to panic when seeing the corpse of another living being. I don't. Because to me, anyone who stands in front of Master's wishes and dreams shall be crushed like a bug under my shoe._

_**But...as of now...my story is irrelevant. And that is not why any of you are reading this.**_

_Since day one, humanity was nothing but a ball of suffering rolling down the hill of time. The only thing that kept them sane was their own hopes, their own feelings of passion and love. And since that is gone, all that's left are a bunch of evolved, sentient apes, killing each other senselessly with guns. _

_ Which is why I am not a part of their race. Just like my master and his old friends had rejected to be._

_ In what we call history, there are only a handful of people who have gained my respect for what they have done. The Bolverk Squad is one small example. But the stories of others before them have been seemingly forgotten and charred to nothing but ashes._

_ There are only very few remains of these heroes we can remember. Hank J. Wimbleton, Sanford, Deimos; the gift of temporary freedom these three had given us is something we all know about. A gift they had to pry out of the dead hands of a once-tyrannical Auditor._

_ But everyone else was seemingly forgotten. Everyone else who had at least contributed or tried to fight for a better world around them had suddenly become ignored, dusty pages in a textbook. Each and every single one of them had bravely fought for not only their own lives, but for humanity itself. Although I still do not understand why they would fight for such a foolish, blood-driven species, they are, regardless, heroes, along with the villains that had once terrorized their lands._

_ And we had forgotten them._

_ This is why this story exists. This is the story of those who had fought for a better future, even before my Master's time. These are the warriors who had made a difference for not only you or me, but for all of us. And although their efforts did not last forever, they at least made some things...__**bearable**__...for the rest of us in the meantime._

_ These are the stories of those who had fought in a world that had also cruelly denied them peace and serenity as well. So now your job is to only read and remember; remember those who had taken every bullet, stab, and bruise to their bodies for your lives, regardless of how pitiful they may be._

_ Your job is to only read and __**Never Forget.**_

* * *

_**Starting Credits:**_

Authors: Spirit9871 and Robojohn32 (on DeviantArt)

Cover: "Don't Forget" (Screenshot of Xionic Madness 4, Part 3), by DodgeStreaker

Bolverk Squad, Xionic Madness, Enid, Soldier, Storyline (minus final dialogue by Enid): by Xionico; Creator of Xionic Madness

Hank J. Wimbleton, Sanford, Deimos: by Matt "Jolly" Krinkels; creator of Madness Combat and all things Madness

Other O.C.'s of Future Chapters: (Will have their credits given to their rightful owners)

Special Thanks: To DodgeStreaker for allowing us to use this cover, Xionico for Xionic Madness, Krinkels for Madness, and YamadaTaro (On DeviantArt) for the script for Xionic Madness Episode 4, Part 3


	2. Max and Jack (Maximunex)

Chapter 2: Max and Jack

* * *

**O.C. Credits:**

_***All O.C.s belong to Maximunex on DeviantArt (Max, Jack, & ATP SS)***_

* * *

_"Jack."_

A young man with a bandaged head and a simple gray outfit with gray sneakers turned to the other side of the couch he slept on away from the disturbing voice.

**"Jack."**

The man had groaned, once again trying to continue his well-needed slumber. He merely shooed away his partner, who was doing a fantastic job annoying him.

_**"Wake up you dumbass!"**_

A sudden yank on his shirt was enough to cause the resting fighter to fall on his side onto the cold wooden floor. He rubbed his head, too tired to yell a string of curses at the person who dared cut off his sleep.

"Fucking Hell...I don't know which is more annoying; mosquitoes in a hot summer day, or **you.**" Jack muttered under his breath.

Although obviously annoyed by this, Jack's partner had helped him back on his feet with a simple tug of the arm. Jack made a few long blinks momentarily as his vision returned back to normal. Sure enough, he was met face-to-face with his brown-haired partner; Max, who was wearing a simple gray shirt under a black trenchcoat with white dirtied sneakers.

"Yeah, well, I didn't wake you up just so we can go off and play games. We have another goddamn mission to handle." Max informed him as he pulled out a wrinkled folded paper from his pocket.

As the nausea of being forcefully woken up quickly passed, Jack took whatever his comrade had in his hands, unfolding the paper sloppily as he still didn't feel fully-functional at the very moment. "Jebus...already Max? Why the Hell can't they get some other goddamn agent to do this job? Hank seems fine to me."

Max rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Hey, don't think this is my fault. I don't know what the Hell the Higher-Ups are doing either. Either way though, I still bet you Agent Wimbleton has his own shit to do in Nevada. The guy's been going to the Improbability Zone way too many times now, and he ain't complaining. So suck it up and let's get this shit over with."

Sighing, Jack merely put the paper in his pockets without another word. Turning around and going to the shelves nearby him, he pulled out the hat that would cover his bandages around his cranium, and his utility vest. Grinning, he fastened the fingerless-gloves on his hands and rolled his head around his neck with a satisfying _crack_.

_**"Let's roll."**_

* * *

The drive to their location took only a half-hour or so to make. The facility they were meant to take down was large, meaning that there would certainly be a lot of bodies to hit the floor by the time the area was cleared.

"This the place?" Max questioned as Jack looked over the secret address.

"A-yep." Jack replied with a nod; throwing away the paper he just held like a piece of litter.

Driving a bit further but not too close to raise any suspicion, Jack stopped the car, turning to Max.

"The briefing said this place is heavily guarded. That means we aren't getting in without some special access like a keycard or something. Well then compadre; how do you propose we get into that little A.A.H.W. toy-factory?"

Chuckling, Max turned away from Jack as he stared at the entraceway of the facility, seemingly waiting for something to happen. "Simple; we just kill whoever decides to come out of the building first, and just steal whatever the Hell we need to crash that party."

As if on cue, an unfortunate 1337 agent had suddenly stepped out to the darkness of the night; taking out a cigarrette and a lighter to smoke. With their headlights off, Max and Jack were practically unsuspectable from such a faraway distance.

With a sly smirk on his face, Max pulled out his signature rifle, along with a crucial element to make things a bit easier for the two: a silencer. Twisting the silencer into place, he looked carefully into the scope, wanting to make the kill as clean and quick as possible.

_**"And looks like Lucky Fucker number one has just left the building."**_ Max whispered with his eyes locked onto the target. Firing a silent round, he watched as the cigarrette flew out of the 1337 agent's mouth; falling into a puddle of blood made by the bullet puncturing the skull.

Placing the rifle on his back, Max quickly collected a few weapons along with him and dashed off to the fresh corpse for anything useful. Jack followed suite, as he took a Glock with a silencer of its own with him and his trusty mallet on his back.

By the time he reached his teammate, Max had already found what he was looking for. Sure enough, as Jack had said before, it was a keycard. Flipping the piece of plastic in his hand, he swiped it down on the mechanical slot besides him and simply walked in with Jack.

The first room they entered was cleared quickly, as the duo had fired their weapons simultaneously at enemy forces. By the time it was over, there were three 1337 agents along with four ATP engineers down on the floor. There wasn't much of a _bang_ involved in the shooting thanks to the silencers they installed into their guns, but it was best left that way, since such a huge building could cause problems for the two.

The mission continued as the two calmly walked down the hallway; shoes stepping over more dead bodies and puddles of blood. The next room had given a bit more of an alternate route however, as the hallway had continued with an elevator leading to the basement on the side. After eliminating three more 1337 agents, the two had gone to the elevator without hesitation, simply because interesting stuff would usually lie in the basement of any high-tech establishment.

While they took down more and more bodies, Max had decided starting a conversation with his partner.

"Be careful about this place. Corey didn't give much to the Agency regarding this facility, probably because it's so goddamn large. No telling what they may be hiding here."

Jack frowned as some more blood decorated the walls and floor. "Come on, don't get your balls twisted in a knot. Nothing we can't handle."

"Still..."

"Listen, we'll maul down these fuckers, and you don't have to be so damn insecure 'bout yourself. Jebus Christ...why do ya gotta be so negative about the situation all the time?" Jack pushed on.

"Well, I'm so sorry to burst your bubble, but I ain't so outgoing with shit like this. Getting killed doesn't hold much benefits for your information, and I certainly don't plan dying anytime soon." Max responded.

Feeling the irritation from his partner's voice, Jack just decided to lay off the conversation with a shrug. "Whatever. It's not like worrying will make a difference anyways."

Silence reigned a bit more afterwards. Room after room, the two of them would easily dispatch of any enemies thanks to the ambush tactic they had so successfully worked with over the years. However, with every kill, the both of them began to feel a bit uneasy.

Not being able to take the itching feeling anymore, Jack finally decided to bring the disturbing idea to the table.

"You've realized it too, haven't you?"

Saying nothing as he kicked away the body of yet another engineer blocking the way, Max nodded.

"Yeah, I have."

With this, Max and Jack had momentarily stopped their killing spree for a short, important chat.

"These bodies..." Max continued, "They're all ATP engineers."

Jack twisted the corner of his lip as he saw all the yellow blood scattered all over the place. This mission...it was almost too easy. All of these guys were unarmed, meaning that it may have been possible they were working on something else rather than the usual A.A.H.W. business that goes about Nevada.

And if their suspicions were correct, their easy mission would reach a whole new level of Holy Shit in a matter of minutes by the time they reached the final room.

"Yeah. Do you think there's something in here? Like, something we certainly haven't seen before, in this place?" Jack ensued the conversation with.

Max sighed, unsure himself. It was very rare to find anything out-of-the-blue like this, and it was certainly something the two of them hadn't experienced until now. All their missions were simple ones that regarded blowing up shipping convoys, communication towers, etcetera.

This was different. There was never a circumstance that seemed to have led up with such obvious clues like these.

Finally cutting off his train of thought, Max reloaded the weapon he kept in his hands and stared at the door in front of him. It was labeled: [DO NOT ENTER-HIGH RANKING OFFICIALS **ONLY**]

After checking everything was ready, Max narrowed his eyes.

**"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"**

* * *

Nothing could have possibly prepared the engineers inside the Testing Room for the attack that would decimate them all. Even in their group of ten, there was absolutely no possible way they could have fended off the trained agents that had so suddenly barged in.

Max was quick with his modded rifle, as six engineers went down before they could even pull out their weapons for some kind of method of defense, while Jack had simply smacked any nearby opponents with his melee weapon and killed the remaining targets far from him with his firearm.

Once the final engineer had been hit hard enough by Jack's weapon-of-choice to the head with a nasty crack in his skull, the two of them had began inspecting the room more closely. It was a large testing area with super-computers of some sorts in organized sections of 3 by 3. Aside from that, there was one last thing though that really caught both their eyes:

The other half of the room was seeming cut off by some kind of chamber that was sealed up with a sturdy type of glass. Unfortunately, that part of the room was too dark to see inside, so whatever laid there would not be visible without some sort of method of lighting.

Even as Max closed in on the chamber and pressed his face against the glass, it was still too pitch-black to see anything. There was a doorway nearby that seemed to lead inside, but a looming feeling inside of him told himself to avoid that unless it served as a last resort.

Turning to his partner with a frustrated expression visibly etched on his face, he began to explain the situation. "Well, shit. I can't see a damn thing in there. Judging from how large this chamber is though, I have a feeling we might've just found what we're looking for. But there's no way in Hell I'm going in there to get a closer look. Might as well kill me now if I'm going to go in blind."

Nodding, Jack decided to check the computers around him for any clues. Shoving away one engineer with a bullet in his head and chest, he began reading the lines of code. As Max walked up to see what exactly he found, Jack merely scratched the back of his head.

"Judging from all this code, we've crashed into an on-going experiment, obviously. Every line though seems to repeat the same phrase though. Something called: _**'ATP SS'**_. We must've came in just before they were able to activate whatever the fuck this thing is in there." Jack informed, referring to the chamber Max had tried to inspect just earlier.

"Well, is there any way we can at least make things a bit more visible in there?" Max questioned.

"Hmm, hang on. I think I found just the thing for that."

Flipping up a switch on the panel-board, a sudden low hum could be heard vibrating through the walls. Slowly, one by one, the lights in the closed chamber began turning on. By the time all of the lights were on and it was practically impossible to not see what was inside the closed space, the two agents had seen what exactly the A.A.H.W. was hiding.

A few seconds of shocked silence was all that could be heard between the two, until Max had finally made a large _gulp_ to break it.

"Wh...what is that thing!?" Max shouted as he fell back.

Jack had to blink to believe what he was seeing. Once he realized his eyes were telling the truth, he began to slowly analyze the creature before them. This..._thing_...was **huge.** Almost five times the size of an adult male. It wore a black shirt much like the ATP soldats, only instead of a yellow spec, its left eye was replaced with a yellow robotic one. Veins visibly popped out of the back of his head as blood was seemingly being pumped into a tube implanted in its back.

Neither of them had seen anything like this. Sure, there were the stories of MAG Agents and such, but none of the descriptions matched the giant that stood before them now.

Finally regaining his composure, Jack sighed. "I think we may have just found ATP SS..."

Max continued to stare at SS. He closed his mouth when he realized he was gaping this whole time and calmed down when he noticed this monster was seemingly asleep.

"It's not moving..." Max said optimistically.

Jack sighed in relief. "You're right. We're just getting worked up over this meat-puppet. Let's chop its head off while its still inactive and get out of here."

Nodding, Max began walking towards the door to enter the chamber.

**But he only got two steps in before a sudden slam of a switch was heard behind him.**

At first, he turned to Jack, who seemed to be confused as well. But then, they realized that someone else had overheard their conversation.

_**The ATP engineer with the cracked skull had somehow found the strength to press the single switch that may cost the duo's lives.**_

With widened eyes, Jack fired into the agent's skull and watched as his brains splattered over the monitor of his computer. He quickly ran towards the machine to see what exactly the engineer had done. To his dismay, the screen had suddenly gone red thanks to some type of lockdown code, as alarms had began flaring in the room. A metal doorway had now replaced the one they had just blasted through; trapping the two of them.

"Aw fuck! We're stuck in here!" Jack angrily yelled.

Hearing no response from his partner, he turned around as he heard some type of hissing sound behind him. Jack's eyes widened when he finally realized what exactly was going on.

"That's not our only problem!" Max hollered as he pulled the rifle from his back.

ATP SS had suddenly shot its head upwards as its robotic eye lit up a bright shade of yellow. The wires constraining it to the wall slowly began to snap one-by-one as he stood up.

The second this activation sequence was done, SS quickly looked down to the two agents in front of him. A sudden need for spilling blood had began coursing through his head, and these two puny humans may seem to hold the key to satisfying that.

Max and Jack's eyes locked with ATP SS's. Adrenaline had been flowing through their veins as there was no means of running away from this fight. And then, the unexpected happened:

**ATP SS had begun charging straight at them, squashing the ATP engineer bodies and destroying all the computers in his way.**

It wasn't until ATP SS had crashed straight through the concrete and bullet-proof glass that Max and Jack had finally reacted.

Jack took the closest weapon at his disposal from one of the corpses: a 1911A1 Custom and began firing as many shots as he could at the beast while running back. "Holy shit! It's running straight for us!"

Max did the same, however, for a mammoth being, SS was surprisingly fast. Eventually, he realized that their tactic of retreat-and-fire won't work for long as they were losing space to move back behind them.

"Scatter!" Max merely yelled before jumping and rolling away from an incoming giant fist. Jack went the other direction in order to confuse the behemoth.

SS made the quick decision to go for Max first. Yanking out his fist from the concrete floor, he left the crater and quickly used his other hand to make another one. Unfortunately for him, Max was too fast to be squashed so easily as he dodged every attack and implanted more bullets into SS's head. It seemed though that SS wouldn't be going down so easily either though after emptying almost a whole clip into his skull.

Once Max had run on empty, he slung the rifle onto his back and pulled out a Bowie Knife he kept in his sock. SS pumped his fist once more at Max, but this time, Max had jumped on and ran up his arm. When he was close enough to his face, he jabbed the knife into his robotic eye; twisting and turning to make it as painful as possible.

SS roared in pain, but quickly grabbed onto Max and threw him into the wall. Max fell to the ground; unconscious.

"Max!" Jack yelled in shock and worry.

Eventually, SS turned around to go for his next target: Jack. This whole time, Jack had been firing at the back of SS's head while he was distracted, but he didn't expect the giant fighter to make so sudden of a turn. Just like Max, he was able to jump to the side and dodge being crushed. But, he was suddenly grabbed by SS's other hand as he was in mid-air.

Jack dropped his pistol in shock and began beating at the large hand that held him captive. "Let me go, you big oaf!"

Unfortunately, that wasn't an option for SS as he began tightening his hand; squeezing the life out of the fighter. Jack gasped as he felt his ribs almost ready to give in.

"Gah! Stop it!" he yelled in a futile attempt to stop the pain. Instead, SS continued this style of torture that had somehow amused him.

As if it wasn't possible, the intensity of the pain had continued to increase slowly and gradually. At one point, Jack suddenly coughed up blood and began screaming. He was going to be squeezed like a rubber toy at this rate.

Meanwhile, Max had finally woken up from the hollering of his partner. Once his brain had finally processed the situation, his eyes widened.

"Jack! No!" he shouted.

Although ATP SS heard this, he took no heed of the agent he just slammed into the wall. This was too much fun for him; this was what they had made him into. **A machine for torture.**

In desperation, Max looked around, flinching as he continued hearing Jack's yells of pain. Nothing seemed to work on that thing; it was almost as if all bullets were practically pellets to SS.

In a last desperate attempt, he saw a locker nearby him. Opening the first locker, his heart rose in hope.

Pulling out what he found, he put his fingers to his mouth to make a loud whistle.

**"Hey, dickhead! Over here you dumbfuck!"**

This finally made ATP SS stop as he angrily turned to the person who dared interrupt his fun. The second he did so, he saw with his single working eye, Max holding something large in his hands.

**An M203**.

Aiming the missle straight at his head, Max grinned.

"Say chesse, motherfucker."

Once the missle had been fired, it lodged itself into ATP SS's brain. This caused the giant to drop Jack, who was slowly crawling away from certain death. ATP SS began holding its head in agony, feeling the projectile ready to burst.

And it did.

Whatever that once was ATP SS's head was now nothing but a mixture of yellow blood and chunks of his skull and brain. The whole room was literally covered in the mess, including Max and Jack themselves.

Lying on his back after falling from the explosive impact, Max quickly stood up and ran with what little energy he had left in his body towards Jack. He leaned over and began shaking his partner.

"Jack! Jack! Hey, speak to me! Tell me you're fucking all right!" Max desperately began to yell.

His pleas were heard as Jack shook his head and wiped off some of SS's blood off his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Max sighed in relief when he saw Jack was okay. He was hurt, but he would certainly live.

"Ugh...ya couldn't have made the end result of this a bit less messier Max?" Jack muttered as he sat up.

Max twitched when he heard this. "Hey, don't talk smack to me! If it wasn't for me, you'd be a squashed corpse by now! Besides, nothing else was working on that fucker, so what did you expect!?"

Jack stared at his partner for a few seconds, realizing that he was technically right. Then, he fell to his back and began (to Max's shock), laughing.

"The Hell is so funny?" Max asked, not sure where humor really played a role in all of this.

Once he calmed himself down, Jack looked at Max back in the eyes. "Naw, it's just that...it was really funny watching you flip out like that. I never knew you cared that much about me, Mom."

Max twisted the corner of his lip as he turned a light shade of red. "J-just shut up. You're my goddamn partner, all right? What the Hell did you expect me to do? Shrug it off and just walk away like I didn't give a damn?"

Jack grinned. "Never said that. Thought you hated my guts until now."

"Yeah, well, you're dead wrong about that." Max muttered as he helped Jack up.

When Jack had returned to his feet, the grin on his face suddenly vanished as he flinched in pain.

"Guh...damn, that really hurt like a bitch."

A flicker of concern went across Max's eyes. "You all right?"

"Yeah. Just a few broken ribs here and there."

"Well in that case, walk it off. There's tons of Medics in the Agency; just ask one to take care of that shit."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya."

"You can still drive though, right? Cause I don't really feel like it at the moment."

"Mmhmm. Didn't say I won't."

"Right. So how do we get out of here again?"

"I can probably hack into the mainframe and get that door open."

"Or..."

Max suddenly picked up the M203 he used to blast SS's head to bits. Reloading it with a second missle he found in the locker, he fired at the door. All that was left of it afterwards was just a bunch of smoke and a really big, gaping hole in the wall. He smirked.

Jack rolled his eyes. It seemed his hacking skills wouldn't really serve a purpose at this moment. "...we could do that."

* * *

After finding some painkillers in the car, Jack was good to go. Max had bandaged his own head as well, after realizing SS had managed to cause a crack into his skull. It seemed as though they may not be gone for a while...

"Well, that was one Hell of a mission, won't you agree?" Jack began while driving over the speed-limit. After all, nobody really gave a shit how fast you were going in Nevada.

"Uh-huh." Max only said. He was just so tired and his head was really ringing.

"Yeah, gonna take a shower and just sleep the rest of the night away..." Jack continued. He would have to be patient for now though, after getting home and getting his wounds checked up.

"Uh-huh." Max repeated once more. He really wasn't in the mood to talk at the moment, and just hoped Jack would stop talking just for a little while.

Getting the idea that he was annoying his partner, Jack stopped. However, ten minutes later, he finally decided to say what was really on his mind after their mission.

"...Thanks."

Max opened his eyes only slightly at this. This was actually one of the very few times he had ever heard his partner appreciate something he had done. However, he was a bit confused.

"...Hm? What for...?" He said sleepily.

"Jeez, do I have to really spell something obvious like that for ya? I mean, thanks for saving my life you dumbass. I definitely would've been dead if I was all alone back there." Jack explained.

After slowly realizing what he said, Max merely nodded and laid his head back towards the sky. It was morning, but there was no beautiful dawn or sunset.

The sky...it was all red. And it would stay that way until the dark night. God...what a depressing world to live in.

"Yeah...don't mention it."

As Max tried to sleep once more, he was interrupted by Jack yet again. He was starting to lose his patience very quickly, and was going to shout at his comrade, had he not have brought up a such a strange question.

"...Hey...Max?"

"Ugh, goddamnit...what do you want?"

"...You said back there that you saved my life just 'cause we were partners, right?"

"...Yeah...what's your point?"

"...Well...I was actually kinda wondering...are we...only just that?"

"Huh?"

"Like, do you stick up with me just because we're...partners?"

Max raised an eyebrow to this question. It was really odd hearing this from someone who was always cracking jokes and making things so much more lighter than they actually were.

"Sorry Jack, I don't flow that way."

It took the driver a few seconds to assess what exactly what his partner had said. He then turned a deep shade of red when he finally realized the meaning behind those words.

"Damn it Max; I don't mean it like _**THAT!**_ I mean...are we...like..._friends?_"

Max stared at Jack for a few minutes at this. He rested his head back slowly on his seat in order to avoid spurring any pain from his damaged skull. He chuckled.

Jack had a soft spot to him...huh? He supposed he was being a bit too serious and hard on him lately, so there was obvious reason for doubt on their relationship.

"...Yeah dude. We're cool man..."

Jack stared at the road in front of him, smiling at this answer. It wasn't one of those cocky, "I'm-So-Freaking-Amazing" smiles.

**It was one of those down-to-the-heart, honest smiles. Something he hadn't made for a really long time.**

"...Thanks..."

Jack turned his head when he didn't hear a response from Max, only to see him sound asleep. He made a small laugh, deciding that it would be best to leave him at peace for now...at least until they reached back to the Agency.

As he looked back to the long, unwinding road, he sighed. Friendship was only so little of the things you could have in a world like this. How long has it been anyways, ever since he had become a part of this War? Two to three years, at most? Wow...he wasn't even keeping track anymore. But he supposed it didn't matter. All he cared about was _when_ this War would end. When he could finally not worry about popping a cap into someone's head everyday and just **relax.**

Rumors had it, that Hank J. Wimbleton was going on a string of missions to take down The Auditor, along with some help of two more talented agents: Sanford and Deimos. They were only rumors, but if they were true, it could mean the end of this horrible war and this nightmarish world.

Blinking, he saw the secret facility in the distance. Only a few more minutes remained to their drive.

**They were almost there.**

* * *

_**FILE CODE:** MAX [629-83773] _

_ ALIAS: [NONE]_

_ BLOOD TYPE: [UNSPECIFIED/UNKNOWN]_

_ STAND: [ANTI-AAHW, JUNIOR AGENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:** JACK [5225-6567]_

_ALIAS: [NONE]_

_ BLOOD TYPE: [UNSPECIFIED/UNKNOWN]_

_ STAND: [ANTI-AAHW, JUNIOR AGENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:** ATP SS [287-77-2249]_

_ ALIAS: [NONE]_

_ BLOOD TYPE: [C-] (YELLOW)_

_ STAND: [AAHW, EXPERIMENT]_

* * *

_**Reviewers' Credits:**_

_**DodgeStreaker: **_Thanks for reminding me Dodge; that certainly would've been a dumb factor to leave out. ^^;

* * *

_**The Dark Madness Dragon:**_ Hey dude, thanks! And keep those ideas coming! :)

* * *

**[END OF CHAPTER 2: MAX AND JACK]**


	3. Tyler Sampson (J8325)

Chapter 3: Tyler "Sunday" Sampson

* * *

**O.C. Credits:**

**Tyler Sampson (a.k.a., Sunday), belongs to J8325 (on DeviantArt)**

* * *

_**Well...shit.**_

...No...The word itself wasn't enough to describe how fucked up things were right now.

Tyler Sampson, well known as "Sunday" by those he'd dealt with in the past, was hastily packing up supplies for a daring escape. Things could not have possibly gotten worse for the 50-year-old.

Quickly closing a small suitcase, he went for the stash of weapons he kept in his closet. Sunday scanned the inside of the compartment rapidly and began pulling out a few items here and there. His two favorite weapons: an M1911, and an MP5Ksd would surely do for now...at least until he can find a new home far, **far,** away from here. Anything else he'd keep was a wallet filled with cash, a briefcase with a pair of clothes, a knife, and what he was wearing at the moment: A purple suit and hat along with a red buttoned shirt underneath and beige jeans.

Sunday began hearing sirens. They were distant, but they were getting closer by them minute. He hoped that he was hearing things, but that of course would just prove to be a result of denial.

Loading his guns and arming himself with a couple of spare ammunition clips, he immediately went for the fire-escape. Walking out of the front door wouldn't be an option, unless he wanted to get showered by bullets and look like a slice of Swiss cheese.

Vaulting over the window, he began going down the rusted red ladders. As he continued descending to ground-level, sure enough, the police were already at his front door.

_"COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! WE WILL USE DEADLY FORCE, IF NECESSARY!"_ An officer yelling into a megaphone could be heard.

Fuck.

Sunday began running to his car; a black Corvette that would hopefully be hidden beneath the darkness of the night. Jumping in, he started up his vehicle and sped off without hesitation.

* * *

Meanwhile, the officers at his front door had finally lost their patience. The leader of the squadron turned to his men.

_"GET THAT DOOR OPEN! NOW!"_

With a couple of powerful kicks into the barrier, the door gave way as officers charged in; pistols raised. It wasn't until after checking every square inch of the whole house that they realized the area was deserted.

"Nobody's here, sir!" one of the men told the leader.

Before the conversation could even continue however, a sudden sound of tires screeching with the rocky pavement could be heard. Another officer looked out of the window and saw Sunday.

"It's him! He's getting away!" the officer shouted.

"Well what the fuck are you all staring at me for!? GET TO YOUR CARS AND GET HIM!"

Following the higher-up's orders, they ran back to their vehicles; readying for a hot pursuit.

* * *

Sunday's only reaction to the yelling from the officers behind him was to drive faster. As expected, the sirens from the squad cars had begun growing gradually louder. Either way though; it didn't matter to him. He already knew where he was going.

Suddenly, gunfire rattled the air as bullets made impact with the back of the car. Sunday gripped the steering wheel tighter. If they wanted to fight, he'll certainly be more than willing to spill blood.

Holding his right hand on the wheel and pulling out his pistol from his left, Sunday turned around and retaliated. The first three rounds he shot had gone into one car; killing the driver and causing the car to swerve uncontrollably into a building. Unfortunately, there were still three more left; as this action caused the police to attack with much more brutal force.

Sunday quickly went back into the driver's seat as he realized his opposition wasn't holding back anymore. It wasn't until Sunday noticed he was losing fuel rapidly that something must be done before it was too late.

Jerking the steering wheel violently to the side, he started going off-road to a dense forest. Then, he slowed the car to a halt and ditched the driver's seat as he began going on foot.

After travelling a few feet, Sunday finally stopped where he was and hid behind a large tree. Perfect; he would ambush the fuckers before they could even realize what was going on.

Voices from the officers could be heard as soon as they left their cars to investigate the scene.

"He's not in the car!"

"Then he has to be around here somewhere! There's no way in Hell he could've gotten that far that fast! Find him and kill the motherfucker **on sight**; he already killed two of our boys!"

Hearing this, Sunday leaned his ear on the tree. Well, if they were going to actually try and kill him, then he might as well return the favor.

Closing his eyes, he let his auditory senses see for him instead. For somebody who had to be a master at stealth, this was practically second-nature to him.

_Old, dead leaves scattered across the area being crushed by boots..._

_The heavy breathing of his enemies..._

_The sounds of their voices ringing down the forest..._

Sunday opened his eyes.

_**Six.**_

_** There was six of them.**_

_** Six corpses to hit the floor by the next ten minutes.**_

Pulling out his knife, he readied for the first officer. The man was walking alone; slowly nearing Sunday's territory one step at a time.

"Jesus...it's so dark...I can't see shit." The officer muttered as he waved his flashlight around.

Sunday sat where he was; still as a rock. He could easily pounce and tear the bastard apart, but that would attract too much attention. Something preferably quieter would be more efficient at dispatching the battalion.

The officer turned around; ready to inform his group the area was clear. Sunday widened his eyes.

_Now._

In one swift, professional movement, Sunday had the young man in a chokehold. Before the officer could even process what was going on, Sunday had jabbed his neck with his knife; destroying any and all hope for reinforcements to save him from his doom.

Once the deed was done, Sunday had silently removed his knife from his victim. He picked up the flashlight the policeman had dropped, turned it off, and kept it for himself. It would certainly serve some purpose when the time comes.

Sunday repeated this process when he figured another officer was coming in the same direction the last had gone through. Unfortunately for that man, he would only catch a 3-second glimpse at his partner's corpse before being knifed in the head.

_That makes two._

This method of assault however, had finally failed him as he realized the disappearance of the two men had gone noticed. Once again, Sunday tried to listen in on the second conversation the group had.

"Hey...do you guys know where Jason and David went?" one of them told the remainder of his team.

"Holy shit...are you telling me they just vanished?"

"Well that's what I'm asking! I'm not liking the sound of this; maybe we should call for backup."

"Yeah...way ahead of ya there."

The sound of a walkie-talkie going off could be heard next.

_"Requesting reinforcements at Windsborough Forest. Fugitive is armed and has shown lethal force; kill on-sight."_

Packing away the small electronic, the officer nodded.

"Let's get going; this time in one group. If anything happens, shout as loud as you can for us to hear."

Sunday frowned. Fuck; things were going to get a bit harder from here on out. Maybe it would be best if he kept his unknown position to his advantage and just get the Hell out of there...

Deciding upon this thought quickly, Sunday slowly moved away from the flashlights that were drawing nearer and nearer to his location in a small crouch. However, it seemed as though fate had other plans for him; as he could only take two steps back until making a loud _snap_ on a twig.

This sound was more than enough to alert the officers as to where Sunday was. Raising their firearms, they aimed at where the noise would've most likely had come from, and began firing blind.

In response, Sunday hid behind another one of the trees around him. God...the officers seemed really serious this time.

As they closed in, one of the men stumbled on where Sunday left the bodies. Seeing this, he almost puked.

"Holy fucking shit! The son of a bitch killed them!"

It didn't take a genius to figure out who he was referring to.

The lead officer went over to see the dead bodies. He clenched his teeth.

**"Keep that man who did this alive, so I can watch him get hanged with my own eyes."**

Sunday thought nothing of this. Murder was merely a hobby to him; and the feelings of negativity afterwards no longer pressed any guilt. But boy...this was a mess. Along with his initial crime, murdering four police officers would certainly promise him something even worse than life-imprisonment.

Eventually, Sunday realized that the show must go on, and things could not stay like this forever. After all, reinforcements were supposedly coming, so he'd have to speed things up.

Pulling out his MP5Ksd, he sighed.

_**Shit's going to get real now.**_

Without warning, Sunday charged; emptying half his clip into two officers. But before the third could even turn his head, he found the criminal holding the leader in a chokehold with the gun pointed at his head.

The officer raised his pistol; nervous as Hell. Seeing this, Sunday nudged the nozzle of his gun just a bit closer to the struggling policeman in his possession.

"Lower. Your. Weapon." Sunday said slowly and calmly to get his point across.

The officer still stared at Sunday with his firearm aimed at his head. The fact that he was sweating bullets while Sunday was seemingly cool about the whole situation didn't help one bit.

Seeing this act of disobedience, Sunday pressed more force onto the squad-leader's neck, causing him to gag. The officer hesitated at this.

"I swear to fucking God, I'm not going to tolerate any bullshit. If you don't do what I say right now, your little buddy over here is going to join that corpse party I set up on the ground, faster than you can shit yourself. So put it down. **Now.**" Sunday ordered.

The officer bit his lip. At this rate, instead of the bullet loaded in Sunday's weapon, suffocation would claim his higher-up's life.

Realizing there was no other possible option, he slowly lowered his weapon until it touched the ground and raised his hands up for surrender. He prayed that whatever support the nearby police station had would come soon and save them from this nightmare.

"A-Alright man, I did what I told you." the officer stuttered.

Sunday nodded. "Good."

In a split-second, Sunday turned his weapon at the unarmed officer and fired. The lifeless body hit the floor and the sound of a bullet being fired echoed in the distance. It was practically over in a matter of seconds.

Sunday began to loosen his grip on the leader of the group when he figured that was all of them. After a few seconds of gagging and coughing, the man continued his efforts to break free.

"You...you monster! You piece of fucking filth! You killed them! You killed all of them!" he shouted.

Sunday kept his cold expression on him. "I'm quite aware of that."

This had left the commanding officer speechless. "Holy Hell...you really don't care do you? You just killed five people with families and you don't even give a damn! You're a fucking demon!"

For some reason, this line had made Sunday harden his stare just a bit more. This man had no idea...

Sunday sighed. "Believe me; this is nothing. I've put down more people to the cemetery than you can count. Your boys over here...they're just going to fill in a few more coffins."

Before he could even receive a response, Sunday shoved the officer forwards; stunning him momentarily. But this moment was more than enough time for Sunday to complete his deed.

"Don't take it personally. _**It's just business.**_" Sunday ended the talk with, as he fired the last few bullets left in his clip into the man's back.

A sort of eerie, peaceful silence suddenly reigned the area. However, this was interrupted with more sirens blaring in the distance.

Seems like "backup" had just arrived.

With haste, Sunday quickly ran to his car and pulled out the briefcase he carried with his spare set of clothes. There was no way he could escape with his vehicle; it would take too much time readying the car for the road. Instead, he just carried his belongings and ran off through the other end of the forest.

As he was dashing off, he could hear the voices of the next group of officers behind him.

"Oh my God! The whole group's dead! The guy killed six of them!"

"Jesus...call an ambulance!"

"Get the monster before he gets away!"

Sunday didn't panic when he heard the last line from the shouting. The forest was too dense; there was no way in Hell they could find him without some kind of eye in the sky. And luckily for him, the police didn't seem to have planned out that far for some reason.

Sunday ran off as he held the hat on his head with his right hand and his briefcase in his left.

_**"Holy Hell...you really don't care do you? You just killed five people with families and you don't even give a damn! You're a fucking demon!"**_

The cold hard stare the killer wore had softened just a bit, as he ran alone in the cold, dark night.

**...They would never understand.**

* * *

The next few days were more settled than that incident. After switching his clothes and concealing his face from the majority of the public, nobody could even recognize the man who had an unbelievably high bounty over his head.

With the previous skills he had from stealing cars as a living, Sunday had managed to nab a vehicle in the parking-lot of a shopping mall. It wasn't anything fancy; just something fast, and could store A LOT of gas at once.

A manhunt had already begun for Sunday after a service had taken place to commemorate those he had recently killed. However, thanks to his cunning ability of sensing danger and such, the police force couldn't receive any clues as to where he was residing or even to where he was leaving. Eventually, the heat had died down gradually, but regardless of how long it would take, Sunday would seemingly remain as public enemy number one in the state of Maine.

More time passed as Sunday crossed the states. From his original home in Maine through New York, Ohio, and Kansas; Sunday was pretty much on a road trip from one end of the country to another. He kept his supplies nearby; daring to only leave his car during a bathroom break, for some food, or gas from a small store/gas station nearby him.

Eventually, this living on the edge had finally brought him to a steering halt, as he began reaching farther and farther westward. Refueling areas had become less frequent in his travels and strangely enough, the sky was starting to turn into a shade of blood-red with wanted posters of dozens of people other than himself; particularly ones with the name of some guy called: "Hank J. Wimbleton".

* * *

Sunday felt the car beginning to slow down. He looked at the needle which signified how much fuel he had left. Sure enough, he was practically running on empty.

"Ah shit..." he whispered to himself. If only he had brought more spare gallons in his trunk, then he wouldn't even be in this situation right now! Ah well...he supposed he could ask the locals for help.

Sunday pulled out a small map of the United States he was able to snag from a nearby convenience store. Looking around, he realized he just crossed the state line over Utah, as he marked that off with a red "X" with his red pen.

Looking up at a nearby sign, he soon figured out where he was.

_**"...Nevada?"**_

With one final push on the accelerator, the car gave in as Sunday pulled over to the edge of the sidewalk to park. Having no choice but to refuel, he went to the trunk of the car for, hopefully, some type of container with gas in it. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

"Fuck." Sunday muttered under his breath.

Shutting the backside of the car back down, Sunday looked around his environment a bit more clearly. The city he stuck himself in…it looked like something from a black-and-white movie. Everywhere his eyes went, the neighborhood around him was pretty much an array of run-down, gray slums. The only piece of this whole scenery that seemed to shift away from this depressing landscape was the sky, but even that was only a deeper shade of menacing red.

Sunday scratched the back of his head. Was the whole state just like this? He had heard of rumors back in Maine about the crazy shit particularly going on here, but those were just…rumors, right? After all, the way the people described it…it sounded almost something that came straight out of a fantasy story!

Sunday decided to set these disturbing thoughts aside for later. Now was not the time to speculate upon gossip. He had to leave as soon as he could for the sake of escaping whatever search party was after his head, and…for the sake of just avoiding this undesirable place.

Seeing a nearby hotel, it seemed asking for some help there would be best, since there seemed to be no gas station for miles. Sighing he went in.

**Little did he know, he was being watched.**

* * *

"Excuse me?"

A man behind the register lowered the newspaper he indulged himself in to meet Sunday eye-to-eye.

"Uh-huh?" he replied with a bored look on his face.

"You mind telling me where the nearest gas station around these parts is?"

The man blinked in surprise. A gas station?

Folding his newspaper and crossing his arms with an almost-unamused look on his face, the man stared at Sunday dead-on.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Sunday frowned. Now wasn't really the best time to change the subject in his opinion, but he supposed that he had to answer a few questions first before getting his own response.

"No." Sunday merely answered.

The man now twisted his lip. Great; another clueless tourist. Well, he could at least ask a few more questions to see who he's exactly dealing with.

"Where ya from?"

Although he really wished not to reveal so much information about himself in such desperate times, it seemed that he still had no other choice.

"York." He lied.

The man frowned. "Tch, New Yorker? I've seen plenty in my times, but nobody dressed like how you are. Hell, what exactly are ya trying to do anyways? Make a fashion statement?"

"Yeah. A fashion statement." Sunday continued to fib.

The next few seconds of silence were just spent in a heated stare. Then, the man broke it with a chuckle as he raised his newspaper back up to his face.

_"You won't last a week…"_

For some reason, this sentence irked Sunday off as he clenched his fists to restrain himself from committing yet another murder. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

The man shrugged, almost unbothered by the negative change in Sunday's tone of voice. "You'll find out for yourself soon enough."

Sunday let out a small exhale of rage. He really shouldn't be upset right now to avoid wasting any time.

"Look, I don't give a fuck about what you think about me or where I fucking come from; I just want some goddamn answers. Where is the closest place I can refuel my car?" Sunday said a bit more demandingly.

The man shook his head. "I suggest you start thinking: 'where can I get a tow truck to pick me up' rather than that same question over and over again. Unless you want to walk forty miles off into the desert. And even I'm not sure _that_ station exists anymore."

Now that was just unbelievable.

"What the Hell are you talking about? Forty miles for just a couple of gallons?" Sunday questioned in awe.

"See, that's how I can tell you're not from around here; anyone who'd been in Nevada for at least a month would already know most of those are out of order or just piles of smoldering ash. Nobody uses cars in this place anymore. Either go by foot or stay home and do nothing. Simple as that." the receptionist explained.

Sunday just bit his lip for a few minutes to avoid saying anything too smart to start an argument. He sighed.

"All right, fine. Where do I call for one of those tow trucks you've been talking 'bout?"

"Relax; I'll call one up for ya. He should be here in a few days."

"A few days!?"

"Man, if I just told ya there hasn't been a gas station here for miles on out, what the fuck makes ya think there would be someone with a goddamn tow truck right across the block?"

Sunday pressed his hand to his face. Jesus; what the Hell is wrong with this place!?

"Fine! Just get me someone that can pull me out of this mess."

Nodding, the man whipped out his cellphone; readying for a call. But before that, he looked back up to Sunday.

"…Well, ya came to a hotel, and ya gotta stay here for a few days until shit happens, so…."

Sunday sighed once again. "Just give me a goddamn room key…"

The receptionist turned behind him and pulled off a random room key for the new visitor. Handing him it, he began typing in numbers into his phone as Sunday went to his temporary home.

Suddenly, there was one last thing he remembered he had to add.

"Oh, and by the way..."

Sunday turned to him as the man faced to Sunday with a disturbingly serious look on his face.

**"…if you have any weapons on ya, I suggest ya hold onto them real, real close. For your sake. Also, don't smoke. Not here, or anywhere else in t****his godforsaken place."**

Sunday raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Was this guy fucking with him? Or was he threatening him for some odd reason? Well, either way, he'd be more than happy to kill a motherfucker who wanted to make things personal.

Shrugging, he turned back around. "If you say so."

The man stared as Sunday walked off. He went back on his phone and dialed the number. As it rang, he sighed to himself.

"…He won't last a week…"

* * *

Sunday walked into his room. It was on the third floor, and since the elevator in this place refused to run, he had no choice but to walk the stairs to his destination.

Immediately upon entering, the first thing he was met with was a putrid smell. It was faint, but he could still sense it in the air. Then, his eyes were next to analyze the situation. No wonder the whole goddamn place smelled so bad; the room was such in poor, shoddy quality, with stains covering the depressingly-dark red walls. It was almost as if a janitor had never came here to clean up from the previous guests since the day the hotel first opened.

Sunday frowned. _"Hopefully this place has air fresheners…"_

Looking around his compartment a bit more only to be disappointed by every corner, Sunday sighed. In his opinion, he had the feeling that being in his car would've been more luxurious than staying here. But assuming from the looks of the many undesirable people walking in the streets were giving him, it wasn't exactly the best idea if he was hoping for a blissful rest.

Finally, Sunday gave up on finding at least one good thing in his stay. After spotting a bed, he suddenly realized how tired he was, ever since he had begun his seemingly never-ending road trip across the country. In fact, he couldn't even remember _when_ the last time he even slept was.

Not even bothering to inspect the sheets (since they were probably as dirty as him anyways, after not taking a shower for a week or so), he plopped himself on the mattress and drifted off to slumber.

Well, this was just one fan-fucking-tastic day…

* * *

_Knock, knock._

Sunday turned to his side; away from the annoying sound.

_Knock, knock._

He yawned, tightening his already-shut eyes just a bit more.

"Is he in there?" one voice could be heard saying outside.

"Positive. He hasn't left the inside of his room since yesterday." Another replied to the first.

Sunday groaned. Who the fuck were these people anyways? Were they one of those preachers that were going to try and bring him into Christianity?

_**Knock, knock!**_

Sunday practically leaped out of his bed in rage. It was still dark out, so he wanted to make this as quick as possible. For the sake of sleeping.

Opening the door, Sunday first spoke, before the men in front of him could begin.

"If you're from the local church; already Christian. Thanks."

And with that, he shut the door. Well, at least about halfway until one man's arm stopped him.

"Sir. That's not exactly what we're here for." The same man informed him as he reopened the door. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up as he placed it into his mouth.

Sunday turned around and stopped in his tracks.

"Then what the Hell are you here for? Girl Scout cookies?"

"Do we look like a bunch of Girl Scouts to you?" the second in the group asked rhetorically.

Sunday rubbed his eyes to see who exactly he was dealing with. Sure enough, as his vision adjusted, he realized the trio of men before him were neither preachers nor scouts; they were wearing black suits with black shades that looked a lot like the character design of the Smithy Agent from the Matrix movies.

Sunday rolled his head around his neck; waking himself up slowly. "Apparently not."

Sighing, the first man in the group began. "Alright then. We'll start from the top. Hello there! You seem like you've just moved into the neighborhood! How was your stay so far?"

Sunday stared at the man expressionlessly. This must be some kind of routine. He supposed he could play along if that'll make them all go away faster.

"Shitty." Sunday merely answered.

"Great! We are glad you've already gotten acquainted to your surroundings!" the agent responded; almost as if he took Sunday's answer in a completely opposite meaning. "Now then, are you aware of certain fees tourists must pay when visiting our delightful state?"

Sunday raised an eyebrow. "Fees? Delightful state?"

The agent nodded. "In Nevada, there is a certain toll that must be paid monthly to live here. It is mandatory by law."

Before he would argue, he decided to push on a bit further. "What kind of fees are we exactly talking about?"

"Oh well, you know…there's the living fee, the fee for water, electricity, driving…"

"Wait," Sunday cutoff before he could continue. "I'm going to get taxed for driving?"

"That is correct sir. We do have to have the funding to support our bustling city after all, and these tolls paid by our citizens shall help."

Sunday crossed his arms. "That sounds like a load of bullshit. I've only been here for about a day, minus the fact that I was sleeping until you three came knocking on my door, and this is probably the most fucked up place I've gone to in a long time."

"Well sir, we apologize for your thoughts, but regardless, you must pay to live here no matter what you think about the quality."

Sunday twisted his lip. "How much…?"

The agent pulled out a calculator and began inputting numbers. Finally pressing the equal sign, he read it out load.

"Two-thousand, four hundred and thirty nine dollars."

For the first time in so long, this made Sunday's jaw drop. "A month!?"

"Yes sir. We thank you for your contribution."

Closing his mouth, Sunday recomposed himself. No way. This had to be some kind of bad prank or something. This was just ludicrous. Who the Hell would spend that much to live here?

Sunday frowned. "And if I refuse?"

The agents did not seemed surprised by this answer; almost as if they've gone through this multiple times before. "Well, as you can see, crime is a bit of an issue here. So, instead of paying this tax, we allow you to be recruited to our fighting force, the 'A.A.H.W.'. By doing so, you agree to work for our agency until the end of the War and until your dying breath."

"A.A.H.W.? War? Dying breath? Hold on; the Hell is really going on around-"

"That does not matter as of now. Please decide what form of payment you shall choose."

Sunday blinked. Holy shit; they were dead-serious.

"…What if I refuse both options?"

The agent's sarcastic smile broke for a split-second, then returned.

_**"…That, unfortunately, is not a choice."**_

The trio of men entered the room uninvited; forcing Sunday to move a few feet back. He could already tell what was going to come next if he wasn't willing to agree.

Then, a random thought had entered his head.

"…Can I ask a single question though…before anything?"

"Go ahead."

Sunday put his hands in his pockets; **near his M1911****.**

**"…How exactly did you know I was driving a car here?"**

Immediately after this was said, the third agent, who was closest to the door of the room, closed and locked the entranceway.

"That information is irrelevant as of now. Now please; make a choice." The first egged on.

Sunday gripped the pistol hidden in his pants.

"…You were spying on me…weren't you?"

Without an answer, the agent in front of him chucked out a Bowie Knife in one swift movement. However, before he could even swing, Sunday had quickly taken out his weapon and fired at point-blank range into his head.

The momentum of the shot burst the agent's head as he was flung lifelessly to the door. His smoke fell to the floor uselessly as this happened.

In shock, the agent's two partners turned around to see their dead comrade. This however, proved to be a mistake, as Sunday fired two more bullets into the second's sides. This managed to eliminate him as well.

Once the third had turned and whipped out his Glock, Sunday rammed him into the wall with the side of his arm on his neck. This caused the agent to fire a round to the side in surprise, but that didn't matter to Sunday.

Holding the man in this position, Sunday aimed the nozzle on his right shoulder.

"Who the fuck sent you?"

The agent stared at him with a heated glare, as he gagged for air. Sunday twitched his left eye in irritation.

"I ain't got time for this…"

He fired his shot into the agent; causing him to yell in pain. However, his screams were blocked thanks to Sunday's method of trapping him.

Sunday then moved his weapon to the man's lower area.

"Next will be your balls if you don't speak up."

This was more than enough as the agent had begun sweating rapidly. Mustering the little bit of air he had left in his lungs, he spoke.

"Th…The Auditor…"

Although Sunday wasn't exactly sure who the fuck that was, since he was a bit cut off from politics, it was probably as good as it gets.

"Good. Your balls stay intact then." Sunday answered. Using the hilt of his gun, he knocked a pressure point on the man's neck; sending him into unconsciousness. It was funny; it was just after this burst of violence that Sunday finally realized the stains on the walls weren't from grime.

_**It was blood.**_

"Thank you gentlemen for your cooperation." He merely told the three inactive bodies as he exited.

Sunday placed the M1911 back into his left pocket. He had a feeling this wasn't the last time he'd meet the likes of them.

As he went downstairs, he met the receptionist again.

"I took your advice. It helped. Thanks." He said.

The man behind the counter smirked. "I see. But I suggest you run; their organization doesn't consist of just three members after all, and murder isn't forgivable by their standards."

A look of confusion washed over Sunday's face.

"How-?"

"The blood on your face. Get it off." The man advised. "…And get out of here."

Nodding, Sunday dashed out of the hotel. He suspected that if they were monitoring him, no doubt they would've seen him carrying a couple of things that could mean trouble. And that probably meant they would be ready to deploy reinforcements when necessary.

* * *

Just as he suspected, a bullet whizzed by him. Hiding behind a car, Sunday took out his pistol once more. The streets were now deserted; seemingly because of these Smithy-like agents that had completely flipped over his experience here.

After sighting his target in a nearby alleyway. Sunday jumped to his side and fired three shots; killing his foe instantly. It was another one of those A.A.H.W. assholes from before.

Flinching at the sound of yet another gunshot, Sunday took cover behind a different car. Pressing his ear to the car, he once again let his auditory senses roam free. After a few seconds of listening, he realized there were almost ten of them out hunting for him.

Was he going to have to fend them all off like this?

Standing up behind cover, he fired his seventh shot into one agent's head. That would pretty much raise his kill count of these bastards to five.

Going back down in time, he hastily reloaded his weapon. Unfortunately, he never suspected one of his enemies were charging at him with a knife. Before he could even slap the clip in and cock the gun, the agent was already leaping at him; ready to stab him before he could evade the attack.

**Luckily, Sunday wasn't alone.**

A string of bullets had impacted into the agent's back as he was still airborne, causing him to fly over Sunday and into the cement pavement. Sunday looked at the direction of where the gunfire had come. The man behind the action wasn't too hard to notice, given that he was firing an MP-40 using one hand and taking out agents behind him with a USP Match.

He took down about six more of them, and looked directly at Sunday.

**"Come with me if you want to live."** He said, Russian accent clearly audible.

Having pretty much nowhere else to go at the moment, Sunday decided to follow him as they ran down the blocks of the city. In almost every corner, there were five more agents trying to blast their heads off, but thankfully, the two of them were able to easily fend them off from both directions.

Finally reaching a dark alleyway that was able to hide them from sight, Sunday analyzed the person who had pulled him out of the battle more closely as he looked from the side of a brick wall for any more hostiles. He was clad in a black outfit which closely resembled a ninja's, minus the blue sports-like glasses that lit up in the dark.

Once the coast was clear, he turned to Sunday.

"Okay. We're safe. For now."

Saying nothing, Sunday just reloaded his weapons and set them on his body for later. Realizing that now was the best time to speak his mind to this stranger, Sunday spoke the first thing on his mind.

"Who are you?"

The man turned to Sunday, surprisingly calm amongst all the chaos. "They call me many different things around here. You will refer to me as 574 – nothing more, nothing less."

Sunday nodded slightly. Okay, at least he knew what to call him now.

"Alright then… 574. Can you explain to me what the fuck's going on around here?"

574 fitted a new magazine into his MP-40 and slapped one into his USP, then loaded a round into both chambers. "You are not from Nevada, da?"

Assuming "da" meant yes, Sunday nodded once more. "Yeah. From York."

"I see. Why come here though? Certainly, any place is better than this."

Sunday scratched the back of his head. "I'm just visiting. You know… tourist and all."

574 straightened up and turned to Sunday. His face turned stone-cold, and his accent matched the occasion.

**"Don't bullshit ****me."**

Sunday was taken aback. "Wha… what do you-"

"I assure you, I haven't come here to kill you. I want you to be honest with me, for the sake of my mission."

Sunday raised an eyebrow. "Mission?"

"Da. I cannot reveal all the details for now, but I will say this: you've gotten yourself in quite a messy situation, comrade. But back to the topic, be honest. Regardless of what you have done, you and I, we're in the same league. I kill, you kill. Simple as that."

Sunday stared at 574 for a few seconds. He had no idea who this person was, but he sure looked like he knew what he was doing. Plus, he was right either way. And something in his gut told him to trust this guy; at least _he_ wasn't after his skull compared to everyone else…

Sunday sighed. "All right. You caught me red-handed. I'm from Maine. And I'm kinda here because I did something that's causing everyone there go crazy for my head…"

574 raised an eyebrow in interest. "And that is?"

Sunday took a few seconds in hesitation. However, he eventually went on with it, since he had already gotten this far.

_**"…I assassinated the mayor of Maine. And killed a c**__**ouple of cops along the way too."**_

For the first time since he had met him, 574 chuckled. "That was you? You're Tyler Sampson?"

"Yep." Sunday confirmed the fact with a sigh.

574 let out a whistle in awe. "I stand corrected then, you're in a **very** messy situation."

"Yep…" Sunday repeated once more, this time a bit upset with the reminder that the police were still after him too. The person who had asked him to do the job was already caught, and God knows what they were doing to him now.

Then, 574 looked at him, eye to eye.

"…**And that's probably the exact reason as to why I'm after you then, Mr. Sampson."**

Sunday stood a bit more upright. "What for? Are you a spy or something?"

"Of some sorts." 574 agreed, "But certainly not from the police. Oh no; those guys can't do anything right nowadays thanks to The Auditor. I'm more of a… _recruiter_… for the organization against the one that's after you at this moment. The '**Anti-A.A.H.W.'**"

Sunday took a deep inhale. Oh great, another group of people he'd have to worry about. But wait a minute… this guy seems to know a lot about these areas. Could it be possible he might be holding the answers he's looking for?

"… God, I'm so confused right now. Can you explain to me what the fuck is going on around here?" Sunday asked.

"As expected," 574 replied, "And…it's quite a long story. I'll give you the short version of it though, and I'll answer only a few of your questions. We don't have much time left, given that I was supposed to bring you to HQ ten minutes ago."

Sunday nodded. Okay, at least he was getting answers now.

"Go on." He told the Russian-sounding commando before him.

574 peaked once more by the side of the alleyway. After making sure things were still clear, he turned back around to begin the story.

"Well, Mr. Sampson-"

"Please," Sunday interrupted, "Call me Sunday."

"…Right…_**Sunday**_," 574 corrected. "You've just managed to get yourself right in the middle of an on-going war - a war between the A.A.H.W. and its Anti - that's us. This place is clearly beyond normal and yes, it's the A.A.H.W.'s fault. The little shits have built these things, Improbability Drives, which somehow have the power to alter space and motherfucking time themselves. Their leader, asshat by the name of 'The Auditor,' now has control over Earth's natural elements. You need an example, take a look at the sky. That's the Anti-A.A.H.W.'s goal - destroy these drives, destroy the A.A.H.W., and get everything to go back to normal."

Sunday looked up to the red horizon above him. Good, he'd learned more from just those few sentences than he did ever since he first came here. But he still wanted answers.

"Who the fuck were those guys then? The ones that look like Agent Smith from the Matrix movies?"

"Those are what the A.A.H.W. call '1337 Agents'. As of now, they're the most recent model of agents the A.A.H.W. has at its disposal. But we fear that in the near future, the A.A.H.W. will make _more_ complex soldiers, and they'll be a pain in the ass to go against. However, as of now, 1337 Agents merely work as 'tax' collectors, defend the facilities that are prone to infiltration, and hunt down our agents, who are now considered criminals of society." 574 continued to explain.

Sunday looked to his side. Sure enough, he saw yet another wanted poster of that same person called "Hank". Who the fuck was this guy anyways?

Ripping off the piece of paper that was once attached to the wall, he showed it to 574. "And I'm assuming he's one of the criminals they're looking for. I've actually seen a lot of these about this same guy. Mind explaining to me who he is?"

574 looked closely at the poster and chuckled. "Ah yes… that's Hank J. Wimbleton. Once part of the Madness Combat Squadron with DJ Anderson, Eli, Hina, and the Walker brothers. Oh the memories I've shared with him… too nostalgic."

Sunday twisted his head a bit to the side. "Huh. So you do know this guy."

"Know him?" 574 asked, and then broke into maniacal laughter, which made Sunday quite a bit more nervous. As quickly as he'd begun, 574 stopped, and his face turned serious.

**"I**** taught him****."**

Sunday said nothing to this. If Hank J. Wimbleton was as bad as he sounded, then… oh boy. His mentor was probably even worse.

Hearing no response, 574 decided to just get to the point. "Now then Sunday, it's time."

Sunday snapped out of his trance. "For what?"

"To make a choice, of course." 574 cleared up. "I'm giving you an offer of a lifetime here. You could join us, or survive on your wits and try to get out of here, alone. Even after that, I don't promise you're going to make it far, given the heat behind your tail."

Sunday crossed his arms. "Why should I trust you?"

574 stared at him, tilting his head slightly. "Let me ask you something. Who else do you have to trust, if not me?"

Sunday looked down at the ground. He wasn't sure about this. Sure, he was just happy this guy didn't attack him the first time they met. But he still needed to cover some things first.

"Well, I don't exactly have a home or anything other than a few hundred bucks in my pocket..."

"Living space and all your other daily necessities will be covered, I promise." 574 replied.

"… But my age, I'm pretty much fifty. Why would you want an old dog like me to work for you?"

"Oh please, don't make me laugh. We don't give half a fuck about how old you are. If you can fight and you're good at it, then you're in."

"And my status? I've just murdered a whole battalion of policemen, plus a politician. I'm pretty much a murderer…"

574 opened his arms and took two steps back with a smile, almost as if he was welcoming him.

**"Welcome to the family****,**** then!"**

Sunday sighed. Jesus Christ; what the Hell was going on? A few hours ago, his main priority was to escape the police and get the fuck out of this place. But now, he'd have to still worry about the police _**and**_ two more organizations that were after him.

Seeing a spark of doubt in the old man's eyes, 574 stopped his humorous slant on the whole situation. "Look. You don't have much of a choice here. Either you join us and we can actually give you somewhere to live while you help us take down these motherfuckers or you can leave right now and spend the rest of your life running away from the police. Take the leap of faith, will you? What are you going to lose compared to leaving?"

Sunday narrowed his eyes. Still…

Before his decision could go any further however, 574 pulled out the USP Match he'd used earlier and leveled it at him. Sunday couldn't even react when he pulled the trigger just by how fast the man was. But something was off…

_**…he was still alive.**_

Unless…

Sunday slowly turned around. His eyes widened.

A 1337 agent lay on the floor with blood pooling around his head, lifeless hands still gripping the shotgun with which he would have taken both their lives.

Placing away the pistol, 574 looked back at the streets from the alleyway. He glanced at Sunday with a dead-serious look.

"Someone would've heard that! We have to leave, **NOW!** I can't bring you into the Agency unless you've agreed to join us first! Make a decision before time runs out!" 574 ordered.

Sunday loosened himself up, ready to sprint. Oh God, this was going all too fast. Was he really going to give up the rest of his freedom for these guys? Or-

574 pulled out his MP-40 and let loose a volley, downing two more agent who had been closing in on them. There were a lot of them, and no doubt they'd be hard, if not _impossible_ to shake off if they didn't get going.

"Sunday!"

Sunday clenched his fists, pulling out his own weapons.

Ah, fuck it. Wasn't like he had much of a choice to begin with anyways.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Let's go!"

574 nodding in response, the two of them climbed a fence that blocked off a part of the alleyway. It would certainly buy them some time until the chase wore off.

As they dashed off in the darkness, Sunday remembered a small checklist in his head he would use, whenever he had to move and get accustomed to his new surroundings. It was three simple things, really.

_One: Meet the locals…_

Sunday couldn't help but smirk, as he remembered kicking the trio of agents' asses when they threw complete bullshit at him so early in the goddamn morning.

_Check._

_Two: Get a home…_

Well, he kinda did have one…for a while. That counts, right?

_Check._

And three…

_**...Get a job.**_

Sunday grinned. Something told him the rest of his living days were going to get fun.

_**Check.**_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ TYLER SAMPSON [89537-726] _

_ALIAS: SUNDAY_

_BLOOD TYPE: B+_

_STAND: [ANTI-AAHW, SENIOR AGENT]_

* * *

_**Reviewers' Credits:**_

_**DodgeStreaker: **_Thanks! And to answer your question, not exactly. Enid is only telling their stories, in a sense for people to just remember and never forget them. They do make an appearance though in the last chapter, but I'm not telling anything more than that. ;)

Thanks for the review!

* * *

_**SirPolarBear:**_ Hey, thanks Billy! It's really motivating you've reviewed this story too, so I'm glad to hear it! Stick around for the ride, 'cause it'll be good too! :D

* * *

_**The Dark Madness Dragon:**_ Thanks again dude! And I have to agree with you there; the last chapter was a bit too short. I guess it was just missing that "Madness" feel for some reason. Hopefully though, I fixed that in this one.

Thanks bro. :)

* * *

_**Maximunex:**_ Thanks man! I'm glad you liked it; your characters were awesome to work with! Keep on drawing Madness too dude; you're one Hell of an artist! ;)

P.S., It's alright; you must've used O.C. in a way that made the site think you were using a link. It's a stupid filter error, but yeah. I don't mind.

* * *

**Extra O.C.'s:**

_**Agent 574/Mikhail Nikitin:**_ by Sacrom574 (yeah, I'm still here.)

* * *

**[END OF CHAPTER 2: TYLER "SUNDAY" SAMPSON]**


	4. Zack and Ethan (CyberAgent369)

Chapter 4: Zack and Ethan

* * *

**O.C. Credits:**

**Zack C. Weaver and Ethan C. Weaver, along with most other characters in this chapter belong to CyberAgent369 (On DeviantArt)**

* * *

**War is painful, and its scars never heal.**

**That was something Zack C. Weaver, and his brother, Ethan A. Weaver, knew all too well.**

Near a lone A.A.H.W. outpost standing in the Nevadan desert, two trained professionals in the art of combat laid low on a desolate cliff, far enough to from the facility to avoid detection.

Their names were Zack C. Weaver and Ethan A. Weaver, specialists that worked primarily on taking down major A.A.H.W. project "C.Y.B.E.R.".

C.Y.B.E.R. was a mass experiment on A.A.H.W. soldiers to upgrade their fighting capabilities by turning them into **cyborgs.** So far, the project has only expanded to Grunts and 1337 agents, turning the Grunts who were either willing or forced to participate in this program into "Armored Agents" and the 1337's into "Cyber Agents". The continued efforts of the Weaver duo had managed to delay the C.Y.B.E.R. division's plans. It was an important task, because had they not done so the A.A.H.W. would most likely become an overpowered enterprise – the most overpowered enterprise.

But to achieve this – as with anything and everything else – sacrifices had to be made.

Zack sighed as he rubbed his face, or what was left of it – both he and his brother were cyborgs themselves, and it was likely the main reason that they got to take down C.Y.B.E.R. and not some other team of agents.

**And C.Y.B.E.R. was to blame for that.**

"You okay?"

The voice reached Zack's ears, and it took him a fraction of a second to identify it as Ethan's. Although it was robotic, the concern implied was more than detectable.

"... Yeah. I'm good." Zack replied.

Ethan was silent for a few seconds as he watched his brother unconsciously clench his fists.

"... Listen. Just because Corey said that he thought he saw Omnicide and Homicide at this location doesn't necessarily mean that they're here. After all, he could be wrong for all we know and might've just seen or heard things. Our mission is to investigate this area for any weird signs of activity and take it down. So keep your head in the game and don't let it get to you, will ya? There will come a day when I die, but it is not this day." Ethan added, smiling slightly at the last sentence.

Instead of cooling Zack down, those words did the exact opposite, as Zack felt his blood pressure rise just from the mention of Omnicide's name.

**Omnicide.**

The bastard had been assigned to be the leader of the C.Y.B.E.R. project by The Auditor himself, with Homicide as his right-hand man. He was also the sole reason why Zack could no longer call himself human.

Why now, instead of skin, Zack's body was plated in metal.

On one dreadful mission, when Zack had managed to catch Omnicide and challenge him to a duel, he was defeated. But even after defeat, Omnicide continued to tear him apart like a shredder. The pain was so immense that by the time the torture session was over and Omnicide was long gone, the mauled agent could literally feel nothing of his body, save for the blood that dripped from his wounds.

Had his brother found his body any later than he did, he would've been dead.

The only way Zack could've survived such a gruesome toll was by swapping out the majority of his human parts for mechanized ones. There was no choice for him to choose whether or not he wished to undergo this procedure – it was life or death, and death was sure as hell not an option. And of course, Ethan would certainly **NOT** be happy with his brother as a corpse. So now, with a red visor over his eyes, metal covering his whole body, and his human arm replaced for a giant iron one, he felt like a completely different person.

Oddly enough, though, Ethan had decided to go through the upgrades as well, but never actually explained to Zack **why**. After all, it would seem confusing for someone to just throw their body away, and it still confused Zack to this day.

In the end, the two had to flee the facility when C.Y.B.E.R. dispatched a full platoon to eliminate the both of them. Fighting back wasn't an option – they were unused to their new bodies, and any untrained attempt at combat would have probably resulted in death for one or both of the Weaver brothers. Assuming they were dead after burning down everyone and everything part of the facility, the C.Y.B.E.R. agents returned to their base to report Zack and Ethan as eliminated targets.

**Psych.**

Since that day, the two of them trained to not only understand how to work their upgraded selves, but to also become deadly killing machines that would pick off C.Y.B.E.R. base after base. Their names had become infamous across Nevada, and it wasn't long afterwards that they had been recruited into the Anti-A.A.H.W. for more resources for battle.

"Zack?"

Shaking his head, Zack snapped himself out of his trance.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard ya the first time around. And I got it; I'll keep my head in the game, just like you said."

Nodding in approval, Ethan stared back at the building in front of them.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road. Why don't we start off with something fun for once? It is our fiftieth mission, after all."

Zack's only reply was a curt nod.

Fifty missions...

To think that so much time has passed...it was odd. Days really did go by fast whenever Zack and his brother were too busy cracking skulls.

**But the question is... had Zack grown stronger since his first fight with Omnicide?**

Uncertain about his brother's odd behavior, Ethan merely stuck to his plan. He knocked on the seemingly-impenetrable door and waited until a voice from the other end came to greet him.

"Halt! Who goes there!"

"Why don't you open the door and find out?" Ethan teased.

Surprisingly, the Armored Agent at the door actually did just as Ethan said, from curiosity. Unfortunately for him, the only thing that would meet him was the nozzle of Ethan's Desert Eagle leveled against his forehead.

**"Pizza delivery, bitch."**

Although Ethan wasn't exactly a marksman, any fool could hit a target at point-blank range. As for the remaining hostiles in the first room, they barely had time to react as their comrade's body flew backwards from the speed of the bullet, a gaping hole in the middle of the head.

While the rest of the preliminary forces of the base panicked, Zack and Ethan casually walked in, as Ethan unsheathed the dual swords he kept on his back and Zack the Norinco 97K slung across his.

Ethan glanced at the opposition, taking it all in in a fraction of a second.

Two Cyber Agents, two Armored Agents.

Easy enough.

Ethan charged, his swords spinning through the air to block each piece of lead the enemy sent his way while Zack covered him with his boomstick. The battle couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, and when it was over the losing team was splattered against the walls – literally.

"All clear. Pretty neat way to start a mission, huh Zack?" Ethan said, in an attempt to get his brother to cheer up.

His words had no effect, and when Zack looked at him Ethan could see his facial expression hadn't changed in the last two minutes.

"... Let's just keep moving."

This was enough to cause Ethan to lose his optimism, as well. Normally, Zack would be just as enthusiastic as he was in a mission, but it seemed as though the news of Omnicide and Homicide possibly being where they were at the moment had emptied him of all cheer, leaving only cold and an unfaltering determination to find the two that had cost him his real body.

Figuring that it would be a waste of time to try and change his brother's thoughts at the moment, Ethan stayed silent as they walked to the next room. Unsurprisingly, the forces there were prepared for the intruder, courtesy of Zack's shotgun, the fact supported by several crates set up in defensive positions.

Once again, Zack and Ethan repeated their tactic. This time, however, Ethan vaulted over the crates to land right in the midst of his targets and let his swords sing their deadly song. Within several seconds, all that was left of the opposition was bodies, guns, and a whole lot of blood.

"We need directions."

The sudden line from Zack almost startled Ethan. Once the quick moment of shock was over however, it was replaced with confusion.

"Directions? For what?"

"You know, to find Omnicide and Homicide."

Ethan sighed. Before he could say or do anything else, Zack turned in anger at his brother's reaction.

"What?" Zack said with malice clear in just that one word.

Ignoring the angry tone, Ethan explained, "For God's sake Zack, I already told you; don't think about it! Corey could've been wro-"

"Well when was the last time he **was** wrong, Ethan!? Corey doesn't make stupid mistakes or pull out facts from his ass! He uses all the goddamn evidence he could find; even he told me that himself! What if Omnicide and Homicide really are here!? Are we just gonna let them get away!?" Zack suddenly began shouting.

Ethan raised his hands as he backed away a few steps. "Jesus Zack; calm down. We don't need to attract more attention than we already have. I was just saying that-"

"I DON'T CARE!" Zack yelled even louder, "Omnicide and Homicide; those bastards are gonna pay for what they did to me and everyone else! Don't you remember what they did to those people who saved our lives? The screaming and the burning corpses!? If we don't stop both of them NOW, there's just going to be more of that!"

"Goddamnit Zack, use your head! This place is too small for them to come on by here! Out of all the areas those two could've gone, why in the world would they choose**here!?** This place is too small and unsecured for that, plus, our mission's focus isn't onthat! Yes, I'd like to kill the two fuckers if I had the chance to, but we have to stay logical! So stop your damn yelling!" Ethan whispered loudly.

"Well maybe they just decided: 'You know what, fuck it! Let's just come on by to Nevada and bring our asses over here, because we're just too stupid to-'"

**Zack never managed to finish that sentence, because at that moment, the alarms went off.**

* * *

In a dark room filled with only blaring screens, CyberAgent369, overseer of this facility's security cameras was doing what he was well known for: sleeping on the job. As he snoozed off, the security cameras caught Zack and Ethan's arguing.

_"What?"_ Zack said with clear malice in that one word.

"Mmm...Hot dogs...but wait...WHY CAN'T I EAT THEM!?" 369 muttered in his sleep.

_"For God's sake Zack, I already told you; don't think about it! Corey could've been wro-"_

_"Well when was the last time he **was** wrong, Ethan!? Corey doesn't make stupid mistakes or pull out facts from his ass! He uses all the goddamn evidence he could find; even he told me that himself! What if Omnicide and Homicide really are here!? Are we just gonna let them get away!?"_

369 unconsciously winced at the large change of tone from the two Weavers. However, it didn't take him out of his slumber.

"Oh yeah...I'm a cyborg now...shit." he continued to sleep-talk.

_"Jesus Zack; calm down. We don't need to attract more attention than we already have. I was just saying that-"_

_**"I DON'T CARE!"**_

This was enough to cause 369 to jump out of his seat and set him wide-awake. Immediately figuring where the noise was coming from, his eyes scanned the monitors in front of him. Seeing Zack and Ethan, his heart sank.

**OH FUCK.**

_"Omnicide and Homicide; those bastards are gonna pay for what they did to me and everyone else! Don't you remember what they did to those people who saved our lives? The screaming and the burning corpses!? If we don't stop both of them NOW, there's just going to be more of that!"_

The first two words from Zack's mouth were enough to make 369 nearly faint, not to mention the trail of corpses they already left. Great; to make matters worse, Zack and Ethan were now going after his bosses...the two people he **really** did NOT want to see right now.

_"Goddamnit Zack, use your head! This place is too small for them to come on by here! Out of all the areas those two could've gone, why in the world would they choose **here!?** This place is too small and unsecured for that, plus, our mission's focus isn't on that! Yes, I'd like to kill the two fuckers if I had the chance to, but we have to stay logical! So stop your damn yelling!"_

Fumbling the control panel, 369 looked for the button that would activate the alarm system.

_"Well maybe they just decided: 'You know what, fuck it! Let's just come on by to Nevada and bring our asses over here, because we're just too stupid to-'"_

**There.**

Activating the alarms before Zack could finish his sentence, 369 fell back on his chair, rubbing his face with his hands in awe and stress. Of all the days those two could've tried to invade this facility...it had to be today. Now, all he could do was pray that nobody would discover his blunder.

**Otherwise, he would be more fucked than anyone else on this planet.**

* * *

Zack's ranting had gone into an immediate halt as soon as the hallways had begun flaring red with an ear-piercing siren.

"Great. Now look what you did. This is your fault you know." Zack fixed the blame on his sibling.

"My fault!?" Ethan said in disbelief, "How the fuck is this MY fault!? You were the one screaming your ass off when I clearly said to keep your voice dow-"

Before Ethan could react, Zack raised his shotgun and fired a burst of bullets behind his brother. Confused at first, Ethan turned around only to find the corpse of a Cyber Agent with a knife on the ground.

"Forget it. Let's just keep moving." Zack said.

Although Ethan found the whole situation annoyingly ironic, not another word escaped from his mouth as he followed Zack to the next room. Sure enough, more reinforcements awaited them, but thanks to the deafening alarms, it seemed that they didn't hear the Weaver brothers' arrival.

"Alright, listen up! We have about five, seven minutes at most until the intruders get here! So get your weapons ready, man your positions, and-"

Zack fired the last shell into the Cyber Agent that was giving the commands. The brothers almost found the surprised reactions of his comrades amusing.

"Holy shit! It's them!" One of the Armored Agents shouted.

Another Armored Agent turned to one of the two remaining Cyber Agents. "I thought he said we had about five to seven minutes!"

"We should've! Unless...oh fuck no. 369, I swear to God, once this is over, I'll-"

Using the spare Glock he kept on his side, once again, Zack fired twice into the second Cyber Agent's skull; making him fall to the floor like his previous ally.

"Heh, you see, the problem with that statement, is that there is no: 'Once this is over'. Alarm or not; you guys didn't even have a chance." Ethan said, "Now then, are you guys gonna fight, or do we just have to keep picking you off one by one?"

The final Cyber Agent gritted his teeth, angered beyond his wits for being mocked like a low-class fighter. Assuming that five Armored Agents plus himself would at least be enough to take the two uninvited guests out, he pointed a finger at the Weavers.

"ATTACK!"

Nobody was sure which side pounced first at the sound of this command, but the fate of the C.Y.B.E.R. squadron was inevitable either way. Ethan blocked two projectiles with his sword while Zack took down two more Armored Agents with the remaining ammunition he had left. As he reloaded, Ethan charged; stabbing one Armored Agent in the gut, slicing half of another's head off, and using both swords to cut the last into three parts.

Seeing only one enemy was left standing, Ethan placed his swords on his back. At this point, the situation was laughable, and there was no point wasting anymore of his energy on such a pathetic occasion.

Zack on the other hand, wasn't so forgiving. Setting his Glock back into his pocket, he walked over to the Cyber Agent with a clearly angry stride. Although he would've normally laughed at how his enemy was shaking in fear, Zack wasn't exactly in the mood for any of that at the moment.

While the Cyber Agent pressed on the trigger of an empty gun, praying that the fact he was out of ammo was a cruel joke, Zack grabbed him with both arms and slammed him into the wall.

**"Where are Omnicide and Homicide?"**

Ethan shook his head. "Damn it Zack. We don't have time for any of this. Don't bother with-"

**"Shut up."**

These two words were enough to make Ethan flinch. This was the first time his brother had verbally pushed him away like that; signaling if he were to try and intervene any further, there may be trouble between the two of them. And that would just make things worse.

Turning back to his trapped foe, Zack narrowed his eyes.

**"ANSWER ME!"**

The Cyber Agent gasped from fear at this sudden outburst. He shook his head rapidly.

"Th-there not here if that's what you're thinking! They're off in the eastern part of Nevada; testing out new proje-"

Zack slammed the Cyber Agent into the wall again, only this time, harder. A pained yelp escaped from the Agent shortly afterwards.

**"You piece of lying shit. I KNOW they're here. If you don't tell me exactlywhere, then I swear to God, I'll rip you into so many goddamn pieces that it'll look like you've just passed through a shredder. I'm going to give you ONE more chance, and MAYBE I'll spare your life while I'm at it; where are Omnicide and Homicide?"**

Assuming that Zack wasn't bluffing from his heated glare, the Cyber Agent nodded.

"Okay, okay! In the next room, take the elevator down to the basement! There, you'll see at the other end of the room, there's a door! They're there, they're there!" the Agent frantically informed them.

Both Weavers' eyes widened. So Corey was right.

**Omnicide and Homicide really were here.**

The Cyber Agent continued to shake. "H-hey, I told you everything I know! Just let me go man! I ain't ready to die yet!"

Zack slowly turned to him, and as promised, dropped the terrified fighter. Unfortunately for him, he would only have two seconds to catch his breath before having his head grabbed and crushed into the wall.

Not another sound could be heard from the blood-stained room other than the still on-going sirens. Finally, Zack turned to his brother, who wore a face almost as if he was standing in front of a stranger.

"What? We got our information." Zack spat out; almost shaking with excitement.

Ethan just crossed his arms and shook his head. He couldn't believe that this was the same Zack he remembered.

"...Just...nothing."

Ignoring the negativity he was receiving, Zack only thought this response was good enough for him, as he led the way to the next area. This time, no hostiles came their way. It seemed as though what they just experienced was all this small building had to offer for the two of them.

Pressing the "Down" button on the elevator beside him as instructed, Zack went in, followed by Ethan. There was an almost painful silence between them as the doors closed and they descended to the bottom floor, but only momentarily, for they heard strange sounds at their destination.

"You hear that?" Ethan questioned.

Zack was just as confused as well. "You mean the booming sounds?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. It sounds almost like...**bass?**"

Just before Zack could continue the talk, the elevator doors opened with anotherding and the "booming sounds" in both of their ears had turned into amped up dubstep.

Ethan pressed a hand on his forehead. "Oh God no..."

Around thirty Armored Agents were now in their field of view and seemed to be...dancing to the loud beat in the air. It didn't take long for either Weaver to figure out where the source of this racket was coming from, since at the other side of the room, they found the DJ of the club dancing along with his sound system.

"...God damn it Cyber Dancer..." Ethan said with a sigh.

Cyber Dancer on the other hand, was enjoying himself to the fullest.

**"ALRIGHT BOYS, KEEP IT UP! SHAKE YOUR ASSES UNTIL DAWN, CAUSE THIS PARTY WON'T STOP!"**

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd, but before Zack and Ethan could begin some sort of assault, Cyber Dancer pointed straight at them.

**"LOOKS LIKE WE GOT SOME PARTY-CRASHERS IN THE HOUSE! LET'S GIVE 'EM A WARM WELCOME!"**

Although the music continued, the dancing had immediately stopped from those sixteen words, and everyone on the dance floor proceeded to turn around to Zack and Ethan.

Ethan pulled out his dual swords while Zack made sure his weapons were loaded. Thirty death-glaring cyborgs pulling out weapons can be quite troublesome to deal with after all.

"Get ready for some carnage." Ethan said as he continued staring forward.

For the first time in the whole mission, Zack agreed with his brother's intentions.

**_"Gladly. Let's make the body count hit the roof."_**

* * *

_"They're here. Just as planned."_

_Homicide_, who stood in front of a small group of Cyber Agents working on a mass project, informed his superior, **Omnicide**.

Omnicide showed no visible change in composure from this.

**"Both I presume?"**

_"Yes. Zack C. Weaver and Ethan A. Weaver have infiltrated the building, and are currently dealing with Cyber Dancer."_

Omnicide nodded. **"Excellent. So far things are going quite well."**

_"It is, however, quite astonishing as to how fast they managed to find us. This area might be small, but we should've at least had an extra ten minutes or so until the Weavers figured things out."_ Homicide argued.

Omnicide chuckled. **"Oh please. Do you honestly think our Cyber Agents were that loyal? I'm certain all it would take is tickle-torture to make them spill enough information to rat out our location." **

_"I see. And the security system seemed a bit delayed as well. I assume 369 is to blame for that. Yet again he fails to do his job; I wonder why we just don't go over to where he is and tear him apart for his disobedience? Him slacking on the job could **actually** cause some unnecessary damage."_

**"Because, if we were to actually eliminate him from his position, nobody else would do his job. After all, sitting on a chair for almost a whole day isn't exactly exciting work you can brag about to your colleagues. We'd just have the same situation again, so settling for what we have is best...for now." **Omnicide explained.

_"Very well then. I suppose we can deal with that issue later once these two 'issues' have been solved."_ Homicide agreed, referring to the Weavers.

Omnicide nodded once more. However, their small chat was interrupted by a Cyber Agent who reported about their project's progression.

"Lord Omnicide! Project Cyber is one minute to completion!" he reported.

Omnicide turned to the large behemoth behind him. He chuckled.

**The Weaver brothers won't see this coming...**

* * *

Ethan brushed off some dirt from his shoulder as he yanked out one of his swords that found its way into an enemy's skull. The two of them suffered from small scratches, but nothing major. A small price to pay for an attack on a ridiculously large group of foes.

Now, only Cyber Dancer (who had finally stopped his partying) remained.

Already exhausted, Ethan turned to the musical hostile. He didn't have any evil intent, but Ethan hoped to negotiate with him just this once to avoid any more bloodshed.

"Cyber Dancer...please, just back off. We really had enough to deal with for one day." Ethan pleaded.

Cyber Dancer shrugged as he charged himself up to revive the corpses. "Sorry guys, just doing my job."

Ethan muttered a string of curses while Zack picked up an AR-15 one of the Agents dropped for the next wave of resurrected enemies.

Cyber Dancer rose up a punk-rock fist. "Alright! Time for round two ba-"

**"Enough."**

This one word stopped Cyber Dancer's plans almost instantly as the corpses stopped glowing white before revival. Instead, they managed to vanish into thin air.

**The speaker was no other than Omnicide, who stood with his hands at his back.**

"...Sir!" Cyber Dancer said with a small salute of his own.

Not even bothering to turn to Cyber Dancer's way, he just stared on at Zack and Ethan, who were currently in the state of total shock.

**"Leave now Cyber Dancer, while you still have the chance. Otherwise, you'll be dead before the next hour."**

Heeding his boss's words, Cyber Dancer nodded and faced the Weaver brothers.

"See ya guys later!" He shouted as he made way for the nearest exit.

Silence was the only thing that split both the leader of C.Y.B.E.R. and the brothers. Then, with hate flaring in his eyes, Zack made an almost animal-like growl.

"OMNICIDE!"

Zack charged at the man who took his body away from him. Unfortunately, his anger had blinded him, since he never even realized Homicide was standing right behind Omnicide.

"Zack, no!" Ethan shouted to warn him.

But his words came too late. Before Zack could raise his larger mechanical arm for the first strike, Omnicide simply moved out of the way and let Homicide blast Zack backwards with a firm punch of his own.

Zack skidded on the concrete floor as he flipped himself back on his feet besides Ethan.

Seeing his brother was standing, Ethan turned to both leaders of C.Y.B.E.R., his face becoming a mask of hatred.

**"Homicide."**

_"Well! It's been a while, hasn't it?"_ Homicide began cheerfully, as if they were just four old buddies who had come upon each other at random. _"You two sure have made a mess of things. Tell me Zack, how are those cybernetic upgrades doing for you?"_

Immediately figuring what Homicide was going for, Ethan grabbed hold of his brother to ensure he didn't go and make another rash move.

"LET ME GO! I'LL TURN BOTH OF THEM INTO BLOODY PULPS!" He roared, struggling madly against his brother's restrains.

Ethan's grip on him was iron. "Zack, you need to calm down! They're fucking with you, they'll make you easy prey! Keep your shit together now, and I promise you'll get to destroy Omnicide as much as you want once we have the chance!"

Hearing his brother's whispers, Zack stopped his struggling. As much as he wanted to just bite Omnicide's head off, Ethan still had a point.

_"Ah yes, Ethan. Very cool-headed today, no? You're very lucky, Zack; had your brother not stopped you, I would've stuck my weapon straight through your head._" Homicide said as he rose up his right fist which was replaced for blades.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Ethan pushed forward, "This place is too small for the two of you to just randomly stay by and hang out."

**"Observative too." **Omnicide added, **"... Let's just say... we're testing you two for the sake of keeping you in check."**

"In check!?" Zack yelled, "What the fuck do you mean 'In check'?! Keep underestimating us, and it'll be the end of you and your pretty little C.Y.B.E.R. Project, Omnicide! And what makes you think we'll just do whatever you say!? I'd rather eat shit than listen to your commands, you pawn!"

Ethan nodded in agreement. However, Omnicide just made a small laugh.

**"That's very cute. As much as I admire your persistence, you don't exactly have a choice. This is an exam where you either go with our rules, or die. There is no middleman, so if you value your life you will do as we say."**

This left Zack and Ethan in silence. They could argue on for hours, but something told the both of them to just keep quiet and listen for once.

Figuring that the two Weavers were now at ease, Omnicide gave Homicide a curt nod.

**"Well. The rest of what must be done here should be clear now. Homicide, you are to proctor the first part of their exam. And remember, no cheating."**

As Omnicide walked back to his office, Zack shifted forwards, almost as if to sprint. Predicting this, Ethan put a hand on his brother's shoulder and met him eye-to-eye. Once he got his attention, Ethan shook his head silently, almost as if to say he will have his chance sooner or later.

Homicide twisted his head left and right, hearing a satisfying crack while Zack and Ethan took fighting stances.

"You really have some balls if you think you can take **both** of us on at the same time and make it out with your limbs intact, Homicide." Ethan warned.

Homicide said nothing as he focused his black visor on both Weavers. _"Oh, I don't plan on fighting you two...**yet**. We still haven't begun the first portion of the exam after all!"_

Zack pulled the AR-15 he set on his back earlier for battle. Neither he nor his brother knew what Homicide meant with that, but it was clear they'd figure it out soon enough.

Homicide nodded. _"But enough talk. Let's begin, shall we?"_

Assuming that meant they would start the fight between them two and Homicide, Zack and Ethan charged, only to stop after taking a few steps forward. A loud thumping sound could be heard coming from behind Homicide, and it was growing louder...**fast**. Even the ground itself shook from the odd force that was going straight for them.

Before anything could be said, the wall behind Homicide had blasted through; making way for what seemed like a giant with smaller Cyber Agents by his side.

_"Gentlemen, meet MAG Agent Cyber."_ Homicide introduced. _**"...I'm sure you three will get acquainted very nicely."**_

Cyber made what seemed like a roar of anger. It's right, red mechanical eye was now fully charge as it beamed a brighter shade, and he summoned the large two-headed scythe installed on his back for combat.

"Looks like that one's been drinking his milk..." Ethan muttered.

Homicide walked back with the Cyber Agents standing by the now-decimated wall Cyber crashed through to make space for the battle.

_**"Have fun."**_

Cyber was the first to charge in. By instinct, Zack began firing at the behemoth's body, only to see that his bullets bounced off his metal plating like pellets. Eventually, he had to dodge out of the way when the monster crashed down his scythe.

While Zack tried to get a better position and Cyber was too busy pulling his weapon stuck in the ground, Ethan came up from behind and attempted to slice at the back of his head. But to his surprise, not even his sharpened swords were able to cut through Cyber's armor either.

Because Ethan hadn't exactly planned his whole assault through, he never thought that Cyber would grab at him and throw him across the room into the wall.

Zack turned around quickly as Cyber finally retrieved his scythe.

"Ethan!"

Ethan said nothing back as he broke himself out of the concrete. Falling a few feet to the ground, he slumped a bit. That hit took more out of him than he expected it to. He was lucky though; had it not have been for his metal armor, his body would've been splattered on the wall like a squashed bug.

"Zack, behind you!"

Thanks to Ethan's warning, instead of being sliced into two by Cyber's attack, Zack managed to evade him yet again. Ethan noticed, however, that Zack was proving himself as a good distraction; giving him at least a minute or so to get his act back together and to find a much more smarter approach. After a few seconds and a lot of thinking, something clicked in Ethan's head.

_**Cyber's eye.**_

Unlike the rest of his body, Cyber didn't have a metal-plated eye to protect him. It was the only way the freak could actually see what was around him, possibly meaning that it could serve as an opening to the inside of his head. The question is though; **how will he get close enough to cause that kind of damage?**

Another idea popped into Ethan's head as well.

_He didn't have to._

"Zack! Lead him towards me!" Ethan shouted.

Confused, but rather thankful that he could at least stop dodging for two minutes straight, Zack ran as fast as he could towards Ethan, with the large cyborg following suite.

"He's all yours." Zack said as he went beside him.

Ethan nodded. Great, now here comes the hard part.

"Zack, I want you to push him when I say so." Ethan ordered.

Zack turned to Ethan in confusion. "Wha-?"

"There's no time to explain! Just do it!"

Zack and Ethan immediately went their separate directions before Cyber could squash them with his scythe. Thanks to gravity, even though Cyber already knew it was too late to cause any damage at all, his heavy scythe crashed into the wall.

Once again, he struggled to get his weapon loose, but this time, Ethan had other plans in mind.

**"NOW ZACK!" **

Zack didn't have to be a genius to figure out where his brother was going with his tactic. Using his larger arm, he knocked Cyber forwards; forcing him to have the top part of his own scythe puncture straight through his eye, into his head.

A deafening cry of pain could be heard from the cyborg-behemoth as it flailed in place to desperately pull away from the scythe. However, the damage was fatal, and it was only a matter of time until Cyber went limp; blood and oil gushing out through the hole in its head.

Silence filled the room for only a few seconds until Homicide made his presence known again.

_"Well, at least now I can see why you two are causing so much trouble to the Agency. Very rarely do you ever see someone take down a MAG Agent in__ such record time."_

Another skull-piercing glare was given to Homicide by Zack as Ethan retrieved the swords he dropped earlier.

"Is that it?" were the only words that escaped Zack's mouth.

Somewhat disappointed by the simple reaction he received from the Weavers, Homicide cocked his head to his men.

_"...Kill them."_

While Homicide calmly stood behind, his men charged in like a pack of wolves. This time though, Zack and Ethan also ran into battle; their confidence high after taking down a MAG Agent in a matter of minutes.

Considering speed, Ethan went first, blocking the bullets that were aimed for either him or his brother. He then jumped high into the air and jabbed both his swords into the head of one Cyber Agent, and lashed out at another two that tried to corner him. As usual, Zack attacked by keeping his distance with his guns. Anyone that tried to close in on the gunner was immediately blasted back by his iron arm and shot.

Before they knew it, ten corpses hit the ground, plus MAG Agent Cyber. Homicide couldn't help but chuckle from this.

"_Pity. I expected my men to at least spend more time entertaining you two rather than dying on the spot. Oh well, at least we have more space to fight now, hm? They were pretty much meat puppets after all."_

The Weavers didn't even bother saying anything back to the heartless machine in front of them. There was no point arguing with a man that refused to see the value of life.

Homicide cocked his head to his side, almost as if to gesture confusion. _"What's the matter? Cat got your tongues? I expected to hear more from at least either of you, especially you Zack."_

Zack showed no change in his emotions. It seemed as though his brother had finally kept him at bay.

Homicide now stood upright. _"Ah the silent treatment I see. You two sure know how to keep quiet. But I assure you that'll change __**very quickly...**__"_

Raising his blade fist, he obviously received a much more alert reaction from the two.

_**"**__**Now then...let's see how much I can make you SCREAM."**_

Zack fired first in an attempt to surprise Homicide, but saw his bullets were instead wasted as Homicide deflected them with his blades. The first strike though was not over, since Ethan was still running in with both his swords. He tried slicing down at Homicide one attack after another, only to be blocked again and again.

Eventually, Ethan used both weapons at the same time and went with a horizontal slice to both Homicide's legs and head. Incredibly, just like in a movie scene, Homicide flipped himself in the small space between both swords and pushed off Ethan's face with his feet like a launch pad.

Even though Ethan was fazed for only a split-second, Homicide took advantage of his falter by rushing in and going for the kill. Ethan's reaction time proved fast enough though, since he managed to slide to the side. A cut to the right cheek was all that he suffered, but he was lucky. Had he moved too late or too little, his head would be punctured through, much like the death MAG Agent Cyber had taken. However, he was still in danger, and thanks to the cut he took serving as a distraction, Homicide managed to use his other fist for a punch straight into Ethan's face.

Just like Zack earlier before, Ethan flew backwards to his brother. Zack continued firing, but quickly ran out of ammunition to use. He figured that the next best thing to do was to help his brother up.

"_Is that it? Is __**this**__ all the Anti-A.A.H.W. had to offer to C.Y.B.E.R.? Shame; I should've just taken you both down myself months ago!"_

Zack clenched his fists. Before he would say anything too smart though, Ethan had suddenly begun to speak to him.

"Zack."

Zack turned to Ethan.

"Yeah?"

**"I've**** got a plan. It's short and simple, so listen carefully..."**

A few seconds later, Zack nodded and they both stood up. This time though, Zack was the first to charge and Ethan stayed back; an ironic approach compared to all of their previous strategies.

Homicide shook his head. If Ethan barely had the speed to catch up to him, what makes either of them think that Zack with his iron arm would be any faster? Oh well, he supposed it didn't matter. If they wanted to go suicidal, then so be it.

Homicide pumped back his bladed fist. One shot to the head should be more than enough to take down this fool.

**But instead, he jumped to his side, away from Zack.**

Homicide turned behind him and saw what exactly Ethan tried to throw at his head.

**One of his swords.**

_"A clever tactic. But if you were aiming to get me that easil__y Ethan, you're sadly mistaken."_

Ethan shook his head slowly. If he could, he'd grin at this very moment.

**"...Who said I was aiming for you?"**

Confusion swarmed Homicide's mind until he realized he had forgotten all about Zack. By the time he turned around, Zack had already blasted through the door Omnicide was behind. Unfortunately for Homicide, before he could chase after the Weaver, Ethan ran in and managed to give him a large cut in the back.

Homicide jolted from the unexpected pain and flipped away from Ethan. Before Ethan could go for a second shot, this time, Homicide managed to block his moves.

"Hey, 'proctor', don't forget about me you know." Ethan mocked.

For the first time in a long time, Homicide was infuriated. _"You little rat...your sacrif__ice will have you killed. If you could barely defeat me with both your swords, what makes you think only one of them will suffice?"_

Ethan narrowed his eyes as he pushed forward with the sword he held in both hands over Homicide's blades. "You'll be very surprised at what I'm capable of, Homicide."

The two of them broke away from each other and walked a few steps back for some space. Ethan gripped his sword tightly.

_"...Zack, you better make it out there in one piece..."_

* * *

Zack entered the room after bashing the door through. Although he could've easily walked through the big gaping hole Cyber left behind, he felt that breaking Omnicide's door was a bit more satisfying.

The room held a large, open glass container the size of a bus set upright, surrounded by computer panels, which was obviously where MAG Agent Cyber was created. Sure enough, Zack saw Omnicide standing right in front of the panels; almost as if there was still something there.

_**"...I finally got you, you son of a bitch." **_Zack said in a sharp whisper.

Omnicide only turned his head halfway. He didn't need to see who was talking to him to know.

**"It seems so."** Omnicide simply replied.

Zack narrowed his eyes.

"...You bastard...do you have any idea what you've done? What your empire has done to all these poor people?"

Omnicide turned around, crossing his arms. **"It's merely business, Za-"**

"_**DON'T BULLSHIT ME!"**_

Omnicide stopped after being interrupted; interested as to what his enemy had to say.

"_**...Don't give me that fucki**__**ng: 'It's only business' shit, you sick, demented, fuck! What the Hell do you know? What the Hell do YOU know, while you sit on your fucking ass as you watch people just...die!? Do you have any idea how much damage you caused!? How many lives were lost, not only from your soldiers or ours, but the innocent! You didn't just kill the men, but the women and the children too! For what..."**_

Omnicide continued staring on at Zack, ever so silently.

"_**For what reason**__**!? How in the world is this right!? For any of this to be right!? It's UNNATURAL! How could you do all this shit to yourself, Homicide, and your men!? How could you throw away the body you were born with just for the sake of having the power to end lives!?"**_

Omnicide lifted his head up. "I-"

"_**Look at me**__**!" **_Zack continued to yell, his voice almost cracking, _**"Look at what you've done to everyone! You've turned us into freaks**__**! Is this right!? Are you okay with the fact that every day, when you wake up, you're nothing but a killing machine!? An outcast of humanity!?"**_

A short pause followed. Zack exhaled to cool himself down.

"...There is certain scum in this world, Omnicide. Scum that are so dirty to the core that not even the strongest light of sympathy or remorse can enter their minds. **You're one of them.**"

Pulling out his Glock, Zack faced it towards Omnicide and aimed.

"_**...And that's why I'm going to put an end to you and your empire**__**, right here, right now**__**."**_

Omnicide waited for the next few seconds or so in case if Zack had anything else to say after that. Realizing he was done, the leader of C.Y.B.E.R. suddenly began to chuckle, which evolved into laughter.

"What's so funny?" Zack angrily questioned.

Omnicide's laughter slowly died down once he figured enough was enough. He spoke.

"**...You don't stand by your words, do you, Zack?"**

Zack felt his hands on the trigger of his pistol loosen, but he quickly regained his tight grip. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

Omnicide shook his head as yet another small chuckle escaped his lips.

"**You speak like you are the Messiah. Like you are coming after me for selfless reasons. But I can tell who you truly are; what you really want. It's in your eyes**** and it burns even more fiercely everyday you fail to receive your goal."**

"What the fuck are you ta-"

"**All you care about is **_**revenge**_**. Your heart is filled with hatred for what I've done to you, is it not?"**

Zack lowered the Glock. This didn't sound like Omnicide...or at least what he imagined he'd be like. Something felt strangely off here.

"I...don't understand..."

"**Be honest; if you had the chance to kill me or save your brother from certain death...which would you choose?"**

Something snapped in Zack's head. All this confusing crap was really getting to him.

"Shut up!" he yelled, "You don't know anything about me! You don't know what I'm capable of!"

"**No. I know everything I need to know about you. Revenge is a dish best served cold...isn't it? Well then waiter, **_**serve me something**_**.****"**

Zack gritted his teeth. He had no idea why his hands were shaking, but he didn't care.

If Omnicide wanted something cold, then he'll give him something cold...

_**...Cold-blooded murder, that is...**_

Zack fired. He watched as his bullet made direct impact with Omnicide's head, and Omnicide being knocked back from the force. Then, unconsciously, Zack screamed and repeatedly pressed the trigger. It wasn't until he was out of ammunition that he realized it was over.

**Omnicide was on the ground.**

Zack found himself breathing heavily. He always imagined himself destroying Omnicide, but not like..._this_.

Still, Zack couldn't help but still be anxious. Was that it? Was it really this easy? Was Omnicide all talk but no action?

Zack shook his head.

_**No.**_

He won. It's over, regardless of how odd Omnicide's death may seem. Omnicide was still dead.

Zack threw down his firearm and turned around to leave. All that was left now was to go to his brother and-

**"Did you re****ally think you won?"**

Zack's heart nearly stopped from those words. He spun around, only to see Omnicide still standing. The bullets clearly went through his head...but _**how!?**_ That should've been enough to turn the inside of his skull into mush!

Omnicide dusted off himself. He turned back to Zack.

**"I have to admit, for a second there, I thought you weren't going to actually pull the trigger. But it seems as though I was mistaken...**_**twice**_**. Seems as though I didn't really know everything about you after all, Weaver."**

Zack froze in his spot, but finally found the confidence to return into a fighting stance. He knew Omnicide was messing with his head, and he had to focus.

**"How did that small moment of triumph feel? Was it good? Too bad you couldn't expe****rience it as long as you thought you would anyways."**

Omnicide pulled out the dual USP Matches he kept in his pocket just for this occasion.

**"...Make your hits count Zack, because this is where the **_**real fun starts!"**_

The sight of two pistols was enough to make Zack run to the side. As he dashed off, Omnicide continuously fired at him. Eventually, Zack managed to zigzag his way at Omnicide and lifted his iron arm for a fatal blow.

_**"EAT THIS!"**_

* * *

Ethan fell back; breathing heavily. He and Homicide were covered in cuts and bruises from head to toe. However, neither side showed any signs of faltering.

Homicide made a small laugh. "Impressive. You truly do have some skills, don't you?"

Ethan shook his head. "Bitch, please. This is nothing."

Once more, they charged in at each other as metal clanged with metal. Sparks flew and blood was spilled, but the fight raged on.

Unfortunately...Ethan made a mistake.

As Homicide jabbed at him with his blades, Ethan had forgotten about his other hand, which resulted in him suffering from a powerful uppercut to the jaw.

Accidently dropping his sword, Ethan had nothing to defend himself with as he fell on his back. Seeing this, Homicide pounced onto the unarmed warrior; raising his bladed fist for the kill. Ethan's last resort was to now grab onto Homicide's right arm; stopping him from cutting straight through his head.

Ethan gritted his teeth as he tried pushing away Homicide's arm. However, this would prove useless, since Homicide was too strong to easily push off. All hope was lost...

_...until he had an idea._

"_**This is the end, Ethan Weaver! That was your final mistake; you're no longer armed! Delaying the inevitable will only prove futile!"**_

There was one last option he had, but if this failed, then it was certain death.

But he still had to **try.**

_**"...That's why...you IMPROVISE!"**_

Letting one hand let go of Homicide's arm, Ethan grabbed one of the bladed-fingers attached to Homicide's hand, and yanked it off. Then, just before he himself would meet death, Ethan stabbed Homicide in the left eye with his detached weapon.

Homicide howled in pain and lost his grip on Ethan. Thanks to this distraction, Ethan managed to shove Homicide off of him and went for both his swords.

By the time he had the second sword out of the wall; Homicide had managed to recompose himself as the second-in-command ripped out the blade stuck in his eye like a painful splinter. Ethan only watched as Homicide held his now-useless eye in pain.

Getting used to the pain, Homicide looked up at Ethan with his remaining eye. He was breathing heavily.

_"...YOU...YOU LITTLE MAGGOT!"_

Ethan calmly flipped both of his swords in his hands, even though he himself was still a bit in shock from his near-death experience.

"Don't speak ill of maggots. Because they'll be the ones cleaning up your corpse after I'm through with you." Ethan replied.

Homicide made something of a growl. _"Little wise-ass..."_

Ethan never was able to say anything back to that, because just then, he felt something of an earthquake rattle him.

**Looks like his brother was using his Iron Arm...**

Seeing that Zack was most likely amidst a battle, Ethan decided to hurry up his own fight. He ran in with both his swords behind him while Homicide was still a bit dazed. Thanks to his serious injury, Homicide was now much slower in reacting to Ethan's attacks.

Eventually, Ethan found an opening that could prove to be his key for victory. As a counter-attack though, Homicide also tried to jab at Ethan as well.

_**"You're finished!" **_both sides exclaimed, before performing what they believed would be the final attack.

* * *

Zack fell backwards onto the ground, exhausted from Omnicide's antics. Omnicide on the other hand, stood unscathed as bullet shells surrounded his feet.

Slowly walking over to Zack's body, Omnicide grabbed him by the neck.

**"Pathetic. Even with that giant arm of yours, you've made little to no progression in your combat skills."**

Omnicide dragged Zack on the hard ground all the way to the wall. Zack groaned from the impact of his spine hitting concrete.

Now using both hands, Omnicide planned on strangulating the life out of Zack. Only choking noises could be heard from Zack's throat.

**"This is the end. And this time, after I peel you like a vegetable, there won't be anyone to put you back together again. And then..."**

Omnicide leaned his head closer to Zack's ear for a whisper.

**"...I'll go after your puny brother and fuck him up ****too."**

Something _clicked_ inside Zack's brain after hearing this.

An overwhelming wave of newfound strength overtook Zack as he managed to pry out of Omnicide's hands slowly. This obviously sparked surprise for the leader of C.Y.B.E.R., as he felt his superior position in this fight gradually vanish.

Once Omnicide's death-grip was gone, Zack pushed Omnicide back with everything he had. Omnicide hit the ground; not expecting such sudden power to come out of the weakened fighter.

Immediately upon getting to his feet though, Omnicide's eyes widened. An almost tangible feeling of strength could be felt from Zack just by his glare.

Zack clenched his fists.

_"You can kick me around all you want..."_

A burst of speed much faster than before allowed Zack to quickly have the first counter-attack as he used his smaller fist towards Omnicide.

_"Say what you want about me..."_

Omnicide blocked the powerful uppercut with both arms only to see he was airborne by the intense force.

**"Impossible...!" **was the only word to leave Omnicide's mouth.

_Without even realizing it, Zack was right on top of him. _

_**"...But there's no chance in **__**HELL I'm gonna let you screw with Ethan!"**_

Using his Iron Arm, the final blow was a direct hit. There was nothing Omnicide could do other than be blasted straight downwards into concrete as Zack smashed him down with his larger fist.

* * *

Ethan held his left side down with his right hand as blood gushed out in gratuitous amounts. He was lucky; two inches a bit to the right would've punctured his lung instead.

But it was worth it. He lost the majority of his left side in return for Homicide's life.

Ethan turned around slowly as he saw what remained of Homicide. He was cut cleanly in two.

Limping over to the corpse, he sighed.

"Homicide...you were such a waste of potential..."

Upon further inspection however, Ethan's eyes widened. Yes, there was oil pooling out of Homicide's body...

_...but no blood._

That was impossible, considering the fact that both Omnicide and Homicide were cyborgs themselves!

_**...Unless...**_

Ethan shook his head. "No...no fucking way."

Ethan cut open Homicide's body. But instead of seeing internal organs, his heart sank.

**Mechanical parts. _Fully_ mechanical parts.**

"Oh my God..."

Unfortunately, Ethan's train of thought was stopped midway as yet another earthquake-like rumble rattled the walls. Remembering Zack, he ran over to his brother.

"Zack! Wait!"

Once he saw him, however, Zack was clearly in a different world. He was on top of Omnicide, who was almost nothing but spare parts by now.

"Zack..."

Zack didn't even hear his brother. Instead, he just kneeled there; right on the leader of the enterprise that made his life a living Hell.

Grabbing Omnicide's sides, Zack brought the both of them face-to-face.

"...Was it really worth it...?" Zack said in a hoarse whisper.

Omnicide just stared expressionlessly at his worn-out opponent with the half of his head that still wasn't crushed.

"...Was all that worth it, just so you could become...**THIS**!? A _**bloody pulp?**_"

Omnicide still laid silent.

_**"...Why?"**_

"**..."**

_**"...Why did you do all this? Why did you have to ruin my life!? The lives of hundreds of people!**__**?"**_

More staring.

"...Well..._**ANSWER ME!**_"

There was a much longer interval of silence. Then, laughter, that left Zack and Ethan speechless in awe.

**"****...You yell...just like your wife did****..."**

Zack didn't know what exactly he felt at that moment, because the second that sentence had processed into his brain, he screamed.

_**"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"**_

...This was followed by violent bashing, which turned into ripping. Had it not have been for Ethan, Zack may have just gone mad right then and there like a wild animal.

"ZACK, STOP!"

Ethan pulled Zack away from Omnicide before he would descend even further through the pits of madness. Zack found himself sitting upright; disbelieving that the messed remains of Omnicide were his doing. However, just like Ethan, once he reached his senses, he realized a pivotal fact:

He was covered in oil.

_**Only oil.**_

Zack looked at himself, confused. "Wh-...what the ?"

Ethan shook his head as he placed a hand on Zack's shoulder.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. These two _**aren't**_ Homicide and Omnicide. They're_** machines programmed to be like them.**_"

Zack sat there; silent. He shook his head.

"No..."

Pushing away his brother's comforting hand, he continued shaking his head, only more rapidly.

"...No... No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...you're...you're wrong! You're lying!"

Ethan closed his eyes. "Zack, I-"

"BE QUIET!" Zack yelled, trying to recollect himself, "...I...I need more time to think...this can't be happening..."

**"****Oh but it is."**

The two brothers froze when they heard that voice.

**Omnicide.**

His voice was as clear as day, but even though they looked all around the room...he was _nowhere_ to be seen.

**"****Ah, my apologizes. Screen: On."**

There was a buzz and Omnicide's face had appeared on the wall before them. The giant Omnicide appearing out of nowhere was more than enough to nearly give both Weavers heart attacks.

**"****Now then, assuming that you two are standing right there with my crushed counterpart, you've both managed to survive my exam."**

Zack widened his eyes. "Omnicide..."

**"****Yes. This time, the real me. You two took quite a beating from my designs. However, and I'm sorry to burst your bubbles, but those mechanical clones were only about...a **_**tenth**_** of my actual strength. And the same goes for Homicide as well."**

"SHOW YOURSELF!" Zack shouted, "Show yourself so I can tear you to pieces!"

**"****As generous as an offer that is," **Omnicide sarcastically replied, **"****...I am nowhere near your current location. And besides, if you used your head, you would know by now that you wouldn't even stand a chance against me. Not to mention in your current state..."**

"I don't give a fuck!" Zack continued, "I'll find you Omnicide, and I'll **crush** you for everything you've done!"

**"****Very well then. But that'll have to wait for another day."**

Another figure had entered the scene. Immediately, Zack and Ethan knew it was Homicide.

_"__Sir, we must leave. There are certain things to be attended to after all."_

Nodding, Omnicide turned back to the Weavers.

**"****Let this be a message for you two however; **_**neither of you are ready to fight me.**_ **If you wish to face me in combat, _train_. Then, come to me when you've proven yourselves worthy. Otherwise, the next time you force a meeting between us two, **_**there will be no future for either of you."**_

This left Zack and Ethan stuck for words. Omnicide stood, probably readying himself for what tasks lay ahead.

**"..****.Goodbye. Until we meet again, **_**I shall be waiting.**_**"**

More buzzing followed as the screen vanished into thin air.

Zack couldn't believe it. That was it? That was all he'd tell them? That they still weren't ready to fight the leaders of C.Y.B.E.R.?

Ethan turned to his brother. "Zack..."

Instead of just sitting there and listening, Zack stood up. To Ethan's surprise, he ran at the wall where Omnicide's face was just displayed and began to violently punch at the concrete with both fists.

"DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT!" Zack shouted every time his fists made contact with the cracking wall.

After what seemed like the tenth hit, Zack banged both hands on the wall and fell to his knees. Lowering his head, Ethan heard something that sounded almost like sobbing. That was probably his cue.

"Zack..." Ethan said in a low voice as he put a hand on his shoulder. This time, Zack didn't push him away.

"I thought...we were so close..." Zack began with a whisper. "...I thought this whole nightmare was over...But it was too good to be true..."

"For a second back there, so did I." Ethan said with a nod. "But I knew from the start something was wrong. That's what I've been trying to tell you; there was no way Omnicide and Homicide were here. It had to be a trap."

Zack sighed, shaking his head. "...Well...congrats. You were right. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Hey, don't act like I wanted it to be true." Ethan argued. "I really wanted to crush their skulls in too ya know."

Zack banged his head lightly on the wall that was nearly ready to collapse. "Look at what they've done to us Ethan...we're not human anymore. We're just killing machines..."

"But we have a _**purpose.**_" Ethan added. "We were destined to take those two down before they hurt anymore people. To end this war and-"

"...And then what?" Zack interrupted, his voice cracking. "What happens then? Where will we go when this war is over? We're _monsters_..."

Ethan sighed. "I'm...I'm not honestly sure myself."

Zack sat silent.

"But all I know is that we have each other. You and me, against the world. And that's more than enough right now." Ethan finished.

Zack shook his head once again. "Why...? Why did you go for the tests Ethan? I didn't have a choice, but you _**did.**_ Were you really that desperate to grow stronger that...that you'd just throw your body away just like that?"

A long silence pierced the air for the both of them. Ethan turned his head away.

"...The truth was...I didn't do it because I fully _**wanted**_ to."

Zack raised his head in interest.

"I did it...so that you wouldn't feel _alone._I knew you'd feel like this the second I saw you with your new upgrades. So I…decided that I might as well join ya. **Bros before anything else after all."**

Zack shook his head. "Damn. You didn't have to do all that you know."

"Nah, I did. And it's alright. As long as you're still alive, I don't really have to regret anything."

These words touched Zack to the core. Had his brother really cared about him that much all this time?

Zack sighed. "I'm sorry. And this time, I mean it. My family...I just…I just wanna see them again, you know?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. I know dude. And don't worry; I promise we'll find them after we clean up this whole mess. I'm sure they'll be happy to see you again, even in this form."

Zack looked up to his brother with hopeful eyes. "You think so?"

**"I know it. So whether you like it or not, we're gonna find them someday. And everything can finally go back to normal."** Ethan assured.

For the first time since…God knows when, Zack smiled.

"Now come on. Let's get back to HQ and call it a day; I'm a bit tired as you can see." Ethan told his brother as he showed him his large wound.

Zack nodded. With a helping hand from Ethan, he stood up and slung Ethan's left arm behind his shoulders to help him move.

As they walked out through the hole in the wall, Zack decided there was one last thing that had to be said.

"Ethan?"

"…Yeah?"

"…Thanks. For everything. I don't know what I can do without ya."

Zack waited for Ethan's reply, but his brother only stood silent. Then, to his surprise, Ethan raised his fist towards Zack.

Zack lightly bumped his own fist with Ethan's.

Ethan grinned.

"…_**No prob dude. No prob."**_

* * *

_**War is painful, and its scars never heal.**_

_** …**_**That was something Zack C. Weaver, and his brother, Ethan A. Weaver, knew all too well.**

_**...**__**but together they face the pain and share the scars...**_

**...And they realized...**_**things don't seem that bad anymore...**_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ ZACK C. WEAVER [9225-9328] _

_ALIAS: IRON ARM_

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [ANTI-AAHW, JUNIOR AGENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ ETHAN A. WEAVER [38426-932] _

_ALIAS: [NONE]_

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [ANTI-AAHW, JUNIOR AGENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ OMNICIDE [666-42433] _

_ALIAS: LORD OMNICIDE_

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [AAHW; LEADER OF C.Y.B.E.R. DIVISION]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ HOMICIDE [4664-2433] _

_ALIAS: [NONE]_

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [AAHW; CO-LEADER OF C.Y.B.E.R. DIVISION]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ ARMORED AGENT [2766-332-24] _

_BLOOD TYPE: A, AB, B, O [NORMAL BLOOD]_

_STAND: [AAHW; EXPERIMENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ CYBER AGENT [2923-243-68] _

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [AAHW; EXPERIMENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ CYBER AGENT 369 [29237-369] _

_ALIAS: 369_

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [AAHW, ROOKIE AGENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ CYBER DANCER [237-32623] _

_ALIAS: [NONE]_

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [AAHW, SENIOR AGENT]_

* * *

_**FILE CODE:**__ MAG AGENT CYBER [89537-726] _

_ALIAS: CYBER/M.A.C._

_BLOOD TYPE: BO [PLASMA-GLYCERIN]_

_STAND: [AAHW; EXPERIMENT]_

* * *

A/N (For Sacrom574): Sacrom has edited the chapter all the way up to the part where Homicide says: "Have fun" before Zack and Ethan faced MAG Agent Cyber. He apologizes for the delay, but I believe I am the one at fault. He was editing this for three days, until I finally had to force it away from him for the sake of updating, when it took me a month to plan and execute this chapter. Still, he says sorry, and I felt like you guys should know that he put as much effort into this as I did as an editor.

* * *

A/N (From Me): HOOOOLLLLY SHIT, THAT WAS HARD TO WRITE! NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT THE PREVIOUS VERSION OF THIS FILE THAT HAD 5,000 WORDS DECIDED TO FUCK ITSELF BEFORE I COULD BACK IT UP! JEBUS H. CHRISTOFF, I AM SO SORRY!

Seriously guys, I REALLY apologize for being so late with all this! This chapter proved tougher than I thought, but I did it! 10,000 words, and we're done with CyberAgent369's submission! I hope it turned out well, because I seriously put more time than I should on this!

Anyways, thank you all for being patient with both my stories! As for Hank's Legacy, during my time off, I planned out the next chapter, so it should hopefully be out really soon! Again, sorry for such long delays; I've been going through a lot of complications lately, so it hasn't been easy for me for the past two months!

Ah well, I guess the only thing I CAN do is make up for all that lost time with moar chapters. Anyways, let me move on to Reviewers' Credits:

* * *

_**Reviewers' Credits:**_

_**The Dark Madness Dragon:**_ Yep! Sunday's sure got a long road ahead of him, like everyone else in this war! But all that's left is to keep fighting and to hope that the end will come soon...at least before you're dead.

Anyways, thanks! Glad to see you liked that chapter, and I hope you liked this one as well! :)

* * *

_**Classykazmiller25: **_Heh, good eye! I admit, I liked that moment a lot in The Last Of Us, so I thought it would be epic to try it out in the fic! ^^

* * *

_**Extra O.C.'s:**_

_**Corey T. Niner:**_ by DodgeStreaker

* * *

...And that's all folks. In the meantime, I shall be working on Chapter 23 of Hank's Legacy, so until we meet again guys!

~Spirit9871

* * *

**[END OF CHAPTER 4: ZACK AND ETHAN]**


End file.
